The adventures of Jonathan Cade and Dallas Winston
by Lovetoread75
Summary: What if after the murder Johnny went on the run alone, not taking Ponyboy with him. What if instead of Windrixville Dally told him to run to New York. Perfect for all you Johnny and Dally fans as well as everyone else. Just the right mix of adventure, fluff and suspense. So give it a read and let me know what you think.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone, here I am with a new story, couldn't stay away from writing for long, hope you enjoy. The first chapter has a lot of just introduction, stating the events from the book, but after that introduction in the future chapters the events are going to unfold and the story is going to take off. So give it a read and leave me a review:)**

It was a deep, gloomy October night. Johnny was sitting his back to the fountain, his whole body shaking. He was clutching a blade in his hand and the blade was covered with blood. A few feet from him Ponyboy was lying on the cold ground. He looked still, almost dead. He was unconscious. Slowly Ponyboy opened his eyes and started coughing up water. Johnny looked at him with huge eyes – "I killed that boy, I killed him."

Earlier that night Ponyboy got into a fight with his older brother. He got home late, and his older brother Darry got mad at him and had hit him. Pony ran out of the house and to the lot, where he found Johnny.

Ponyboy and Johnny went to the park to cool off, but some socs jumped them. Socs were the rich kids from the West side while Ponyboy and Johnny were greasers - the poor kids from the East side. There were always fights between socs and greasers, and socs always jumped greasers, and that night was no different. The socs got a hold of Ponyboy and tried drowning him in a fountain, they could've easily killed him. This is when Johnny ran up to the soc and stabbed him, instantly killing him.

Johnny was the quietest and most law abiding out of all the greasers, but he got beat up really badly by this soc and he wouldn't let that happen again and besides they could've easily killed Ponyboy. So that's why Johnny did what he did. And now he was looking franticly at his friend, who was coughing up water.

"You really did kill him Johnny, I think I'm going to be sick." Ponyboy said weakly, sitting up.

"Go ahead, man I ain't gonna look at you." Johnny's voice quivered as he spoke. He kept looking at the crimson red on his blade.

After Pony was quietly sick for a few moments Johnny walked up to him. "Are you alright man?" he asked kneeling down to Pony's level. Pony just gave him a frightened look – "what are we going to do? They give electric chair for killing people." he said running his fingers through his wet hair and looking at Johnny with huge eyes.

"First of," Johnny answered stuttering a little and getting up to his feet "it's not your problem, it's mine. You won't get into any trouble you didn't kill him. Second we should go find Dally he'll know what to do."

"Ok, I guess." Pony got up to his feet as well. He was shaking slightly from being wet and cold, but also from fear.

The night was cold, and the wind was strong. It was dark and gloomy and Johnny felt like the world was ending. He couldn't believe what he'd done. The guy was only seventeen or eighteen and Johnny ended his life, but if he hadn't done it, Pony's life might've ended instead. Johnny was devastated, he felt like falling on his knees and breaking down, but he knew he had to hold it together for Pony's sake. So he did, and walked ahead of Pony leading the way.

Soon they approached Buck's. They heard loud music. People were having a party on this day, while Pony's and Johnny's mood was far from partying. They walked in and scanned the place for Dally. He wasn't in the crowd.

"What do you two want?" Buck walked up to them, walking a little unsteady as he had a few drinks this night.

"We got to see Dally," Johnny said a though expression on his face. Pony was standing next to Johnny looking down barely able to prevent tears from starting to roll down his cheeks.

"Dally's resting." Buck said matter of factly, and pointing to the door for the boys to leave.

"Just tell him it's Ponyboy and Johnny, man." Buck gave them a concerned look "whatever happened to you two, one of you is wet and the other one is shaking like a leaf?"

"It's none of your business." Johnny snapped but caught himself and added in a softer voice, "Look, just get Dally ok?" Buck gave him a somewhat disgusted look muttering "ok" and disappeared in the hallway.

In a few minutes the boys could see Dally walking down the hallway. He wasn't wearing a shirt and his hair was messed up.

"What's the problem?" he asked somewhat harshly. There was a brief silence then Pony muttered "Johnny killed a soc." Dally was silent for a second but recovered quickly, "good for you," he said to Johnny not batting an eye, "Ok follow me." He pushed Johnny forward slightly, "Ponyboy are you wet?"

They followed Dally up the stairs and into a small room. Johnny felt a little better - Dally would surely know what to do. They sat down on a squeaky old bed, looking expectantly at Dally.

"Ok," Dally said sounding dead serious opening a drawer "you got to disappear from the face of the earth. They'll be searching all over Oklahoma. You got to run to New York to my old neighborhood." He took out an object out of the drawer. It was wrapped in a gray cloth. Johnny wondered what it was. Dally removed the cloth, and Johnny was shocked to see that it was a gun.

"Here," Dally stretched his arm with the gun, "take this." With a shaking hand and wide eyes Johnny took the gun. Then Dally searched in his pockets, "here is fifty bucks. Take the freight to Birmingham, Alabama then switch to the one that goes to New York."

Pony was nodding his head in agreement with everything Dally was saying. Johnny gave Pony a long, puzzled look. "Pony, man you ain't going."

"What do you mean?" Pony demanded looking confused.

"Look man, you didn't kill him you won't get in any trouble. God knows what can happen on the run it's not fair to your brothers." Pony's lower lip started trembling, "I'm going." He almost yelled through tears.

"No you ain't." Johnny said in a scratchy voice. "C'mon man," Johnny pleaded, his hand on Pony's shoulder, "Darry and Soda will lose it if you go on the run."

"Fine, be like that," Pony sobbed.

"Cut it out you two," Dally said impatiently, lighting a cigarette. "Ponyboy you are going straight home. I ain't itching for your brothers to find out and get my head kicked in."

"Johnny when you get to New York," Dally took a drag on his cigarette and continued, "go to Brooklyn, Flatbush Avenue. It's not hard to find everybody knows it so just ask someone. Once you get there find someone who looks like they are living on the streets or are part of the gang for a man whose nickname is Dodger. He would be in his thirties by now. I haven't been in touch with him since I left New York, but I'm sure he remembers me. Once you tell him you are from me he'll take you in. Then you don't have to worry about much just do what he tells you to. You'll be in good hands with him." Johnny gave Dally a small smile which was a surprise considering the circumstances. "Why's he called Dodger, that's kind of funny nickname?" Dally's eyes got serious "there ain't nothing funny 'bout it. He could dodge bullets that's why he's called Dodger."

"Ok," Dally paused, getting up, and for a second just a shadow of worry crossed his face. "Ok let's get going I'll drive ya all - Johnny to the train station and Pony home." Without another word the boys got up from the bed. Pony hung his head low. He really felt that he should take part of the responsibility for the murder and should be running away with Johnny. All the same he walked and followed Dally to the car. They dropped Pony off first.

After dropping Pony off Dallas drove to the train station. He was thankful that it was dark outside, and Johnny couldn't see a pained expression on Dally's face. "Ok get going," Dally pushed Johnny slightly out of the car.

"Thanks Dal, I'll call you or write to you as soon as I find Dodger."

"You better," Dallas replied, and it didn't escape Johnny that Dal's voice sounded raspier than usual.

Johnny hopped out of the car and trotted towards the train. He approached the train car and carefully climbed in. He saw Dally press on the gas and drive off. He leaned against the wall of the car, his big black eyes shining in the darkness. He put his hand in the pocked and felt something there. Oh, right the gun, he remembered. He retrieved the gun and looked at it twirling it in his hands black and shiny. I killed someone Johnny thought. It just didn't register. He couldn't believe what he'd done. He felt so much guilt and sorrow. But I had to, he tried to convince himself, if I didn't do it Pony would've been dead now, and those bastards sure wouldn't feel guilty about it for a second. Johnny closed his eyes in despair. Gradually, lulled by the sounds of the train he drifted off to sleep.

Johnny opened his eyes and tilted his head. Where the hell am I? He thought disoriented for a second. Then the events of the night flooded his mind. Suddenly the train came to a halt, Johnny hitting the back of his head against the wall. It must be Birmingham he thought. It was bright now, and Johnny hurried to jump off the train before some of the workers spotted him.

Johnny started walking along the platform. The place was huge. There were at least ten tracks. How the hell am I supposed to know which track is to New York? He looked for a sign or something where it would say which train is to New York, but found none. He noticed that just as the train approached the track the neon sign popped up on that track saying where the train was going, but that was no help to Johnny since the neon sign popped up when the train was already there at the track ready to leave. If Johnny waited to see for the neon sign to display New York he wouldn't have enough time to run to that track. He needed to know in advance which track is to New York so he would have time to make it there. He looked around - surprisingly the place looked deserted no one was there. Where is the booth - Johnny looked around, he was traveling the real way spending some of Dally's money to get the ticket. Finally he saw the booth on track number 5. Johnny was standing on track number 2. He had to get all the way to the end of track number 2 and take endless stairs up to the platform and then go down the stairs to track number 5. He hoped that the New York train wouldn't arrive yet while he was trying to get to the booth.

Johnny walked up to the booth and stuck his head in. Inside was a rather fat man listening to the radio. "Excuse me sir," Johnny said, "I need a ticket to New York and could you also tell me which track it is?"

"Fifteen dollars," the man replied, "and it's track number 7. Hurry up son it will arrive in five minutes." Johnny paid for the ticket and now he had to go all the way to the end of track 5 and climb the stairs again to get to the platform and then take the stairs down to track number 7. He was almost running. He needed to make that train. But it was difficult to run up those stairs. The place seemed so huge. Johnny had never been to a big place like this. It seemed to engulf and almost swallow him.

He saw the train approaching on track 7 while he was still climbing up the stairs. Once he got to the platform he ran all the way to track 7 and down the stairs. "Last call Birmingham –New York," he heard the guy announce. Johnny ran faster, "please sir wait," he yelled.

"Hurry up son," the guy replied. Johnny ran up to the train door panting. He stretched his arm giving the ticket to the guy. He eyed him suspiciously, and Johnny held his breath. He knows who I am, that I'm wanted for murder Johnny thought in horror. The guy frowned – "no luggage?" Johnny just shook his head unable to speak. The guy ripped the ticked in half and gave one half to Johnny. "Welcome aboard."

"Thank you sir." Johnny croaked.

Once inside he exhaled, relieved. That was close, he thought. He took the seat by the window and turned his face towards the window so none of the passengers on the train could see his face. Johnny was wondering if his picture was in all the newspapers, and he saw quite a few people on the train reading the paper. Shit, he though I should've asked Dally for his sunglasses that would help me out a lot.

So he was sitting his face towards the window, but soon his body was tired of sitting and not moving. He needed to stretch or relax. The ride was 7 hours, and Johnny heard his stomach give out a sound – he was hungry. Soon enough the guy was passing by with a tray of food. It looked like some kind of pasta. "Excuse me sir," Johnny asked and was surprised how small his voice sounded, "How much is it?"

"That's seven dollars." the guy replied. Johnny slipped his hand in his pocket feeling the dollar bills inside. He had already spent fifteen dollars, he thought he should save the money for New York, he didn't notice that the guy was still there. "Are you going to get the food?" he asked a little impatient. Reluctantly Johnny took out the money, counted seven dollars and gave it to the guy.

"Here you go sir," the guy said handing Johnny one of the plates. Johnny was looking at him with huge eyes. He just called him 'sir'. Johnny sure wasn't used to being called that. "Is something wrong?" the guy asked noticing Johnny's confusion.

"Oh no, not at all." Johnny hurried to reply taking the plate from him.

Johnny hasn't eaten anything besides popcorn at the movies since the day before. He grabbed the fork and downed the pasta right away. He felt bad for spending the money, but Dally said once he finds the Dodger guy everything will be taken care of, he tiered to convince himself.

Johnny noticed one of the passengers left the newspaper on one of the empty seats. It was a national newspaper – USA today. Johnny was dying to know if he was in the paper or not. He was sure he was in Tulsa local paper, but he wondered if it made the national news and people everywhere could recognize him as a suspect. He quickly grabbed the newspaper and started to desperately flip the pages. Sports section, help wanted section, finally current news section. Missing boy, jewelry store robbed, new school opened its doors. He kept flipping the pages. Nothing about the murder of Bob Sheldon. Johnny let out a breath that he was holding.

It was getting late. By the time they approached New York it was really dark outside. What now, Johnny thought. He looked at his old beat up watch – 9p.m. should he try to find some place similar to the lot to spend the night or should he try to find this Dodger guy even though it's 9p.m.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok here is the second chapter, please enjoy:)** **Special thanks to FrankElza and One Wing In The Fire for reviewing and Ladybugs for favoriting.**

Johnny decided to at least find Flatbush Avenue and then see if he could find a place to spend the night. The place was huge and was swarming with people in spite of the fact that it was late. Johnny felt dizzy and claustrophobic in the crowd of people.

"Excuse me sir," Johnny approached a middle aged guy with a briefcase, "How do I get to Flatbush Avenue?" he asked as politely as he could manage.

"Not from around here, huh?" the guy chuckled. It was easy to guess that Johnny was from the south because of his accent. "Don't be scared," the guy chuckled again. "Walk a block ahead and then turn right and walk two blocks you'll see the train station. Take the R train to Flatbush Avenue, it's the last stop."

"Can I maybe walk there?" Johnny asked not wanting to spend the money for the train.

"Not a chance." the man replied.

"Thank you very much sir," Johnny started to walk ahead. So he spent another two dollars for the train fare.

When he arrived to Flatbush Avenue he felt weird to just stop someone who looked like a gang member and ask them if they knew Dodger. The neighborhood though really looked like it was occupied by gangs. There were thugs walking the streets even at this hour. Their baseball caps down so their faces were not visible. Their hoodies zipped all the way up, baggy jeans. They walked in groups laughing and cursing loudly. Johnny felt scared.

The scenery was also very unpleasant - it was dirty and cluttered, newspapers and plastic bags were flying as the wind blew. There were construction sites everywhere, dirt and mud and there were no private houses only tall apartment buildings with dark entrances, lights down in the windows where people from the streets were disappearing from time to time. Johnny didn't realize but he slouched and put his hands in the pocket nervously, fingering the gun in his pocket. The wind was blowing and Johnny was pretty cold.

He decided to spend the night under the bridge and in the morning he would try to find this Dodger guy. Johnny was really freezing now. He sighed and trudged under the bridge. At least he was protected from the wind there. Johnny contemplated if he should take his jean jacket off and use it as a pillow but he was too cold so he left it on. Luckily it was not dirty under the bridge it was actually asphalt.

He lay down reluctantly on the asphalt putting his hands under his head and closed his eyes. As soon as he did he saw images of Bob's bloody body. Johnny gasped and opened his eyes. He was really shook up. He couldn't sleep so he sat down and gasped again. He finally processed what happened - he was no good, he was a murderer and now he was a fugitive. Maybe, he thought, it would be better if the cops in Tulsa got a hold of him, maybe he deserved the electric chair, he thought bitterly. Hot tears started rolling down his cheeks. He covered his face with his palms and started bawling. He leaned on the bridge's wall and cried hysterically for what seemed forever. Finally he was exhausted and fell asleep in a sitting position his back against the wall, his head down.

Johnny was startled and opened his eyes snapping his head up. Someone was shaking him. "Wake up you drunk," someone was saying in a rough voice with thick Brooklyn accent. Johnny's muscles tensed up and he stared the stranger in the face. The stranger was a man of maybe thirty or so. He was wearing a black jacket and black jeans that were worn out beyond recognition and he had a shawl draped around his shoulders. He was pushing a cart that contained a big black garbage bag. Johnny couldn't see what was in the bag. A few feet away another man was standing a tough expression on his face, like he meant business.

"Who the hell are you?" The man spoke squinting at Johnny, and Johnny could see wrinkles form around the guy's eyes. Johnny was silent, and the man thought Johnny was drunk and couldn't comprehend what he was saying.

"You damn drunk," he shoved Johnny in the shoulder, "this is our spot. Just because I was out for one night doesn't make the place's free for all for some stupid drunk like you." Johnny was terrified.

"Now tell me who the hell you are." He pointed a finger in Johnny's face.

"Please," Johnny managed, looking down "I'll leave, please don't hurt me." The guy stopped in his tracks hearing Johnny speak.

"You are not from around here are you?"

"No" Johnny shook his head. The stranger looked at Johnny with curiosity – "and you are not drunk either. What are you doing here?" Johnny knew better than to tell this stranger, who was about to jump him a minute ago, about the murder, but he had to say something. He cleared his throat and got up slouching and trying to look tough. "I'm Johnny I'm from Tulsa," he bit his lower lip wondering if he said too much, but he couldn't take it back. The stranger's eyebrows went up, "Tulsa…" he smirked, "what a hell are you doing out here in New York? We aren't gotten no southern people out here." Johnny cleared his throat again, "I'm looking for Dodger."

The minute he said the word 'Dodger' the stranger's face fell. He looked serious, almost solemn, "how'd you know about Dodger?"

"Well," Johnny stumbled over his words a little, "I have a friend in Tulsa who used to live in New York and was in Dodger's gang." Johnny was standing up now, leaning on the wall. The stranger looked down. "Well, there isn't no Dodger's gang no more." He mumbled under his breath.

"What do you mean?" Johnny asked, taking out a cigarette and lighting up, his initial fear subsiding a little.

"Can I have one?" the stranger asked. Johnny took out a stick and gave it to the stranger and lit it up for him. The stranger took a long drag -"Your friend must be out of touch because there is no Dodger's gang no more." Johnny didn't say anything just looked at the stranger's face. "He got the electric chair two years ago, for murder." Johnny literally felt himself jump. "His gang all fell apart after that." the stranger continued bitterly. "Some left New York, some started drinking, some got some odd jobs around the city. So you have nowhere to go?" the stranger asked next.

"No," Johnny shook his head still unable to speak.

"Tell you what - you can stay here with us for a few days till you figure something out. I'm Brandon and that's Pete," he pointed to the other man and waved him over. "He's ok," he said to Pete as if Johnny wasn't even there, "he was looking for Dodger." Pete's face changed to a sad expression right away just like Brandon's did minutes ago. "I think we can let him stay here for a few days." Johnny was still not recovered from his shock but he managed a quiet 'thank you.' What a hell was he going to do, he thought. He had no plan. His only plan was to make it to Dodger's gang. And now he was stuck in this huge city all alone with nowhere to go living under the bridge and even from there he'll be kicked out in a couple of days.

Jonny finally started walking, not knowing where to go. He kicked some pebbles under his feet. He contemplated if he should call Dally but didn't want to spend the remainder of his money on a long distance call.

Johnny was walking and came across a coffee shop. He was starving and decided to get something that didn't cost much. He had $26 left. He hoped it would last him a couple of days but once he walked in, the aroma of pancakes and bacon hit him and he couldn't resist. He was standing in the doorway thinking that he should probably leave when the hostess walked up to him. "Just one?" She asked smiling brightly. What a hell, Johnny thought "just one," he nodded.

"Please follow me." She led Johnny to the small table in the corner and gave him the menu. Johnny looked at the prices. Everything was pretty expensive, but he was already here he couldn't turn back now. He ordered pancakes and a cup of coffee. It would cost him another $13. While waiting for the food Johnny couldn't help it but look at the crowd. People didn't look too fancy, this was clearly a working class neighborhood, but they had jobs so they could afford to pay for the food.

Johnny felt pathetic, here it was his first day and he already spent almost all of Dally's money. The pancakes arrived, and Johnny ate feeling guilty the whole time for spending the money. After he ate he left not leaving a tip for the waitress which was a really bad move if he ever wanted to return to this place.

So he was walking aimlessly down the streets. It was really chilly outside and he was really cold, it looked like it may rain. Johnny was overwhelmed with everything - the murder, running away, Dodger, electric chair. Not noticing he wandered off to a really shady neighborhood. It looked really dirty and run down. He passed by a building which had a neon sign 'Frank's Diner.' The "I" was missing and it looked like one of the windows was busted. It reminded Johnny of Buck's. He signed and hung his head. Only yesterday he was at Buck's talking to Dally and now he was a whole world away. He missed his friends already.

He turned the corner and saw a flier on the wall that said "dishwasher wanted." Johnny stopped in front of the flier. Maybe he should try out for a dishwasher job, he thought. He wasn't in the national newspaper so they wouldn't know who he is and that he's wanted for murder and he could really use the money. He felt like he had to survive on his own in New York, prove to himself that he could do it. He decided not to contact the gang until he had some way to survive here worked out. He didn't want to sound like a wimp who didn't know what to do. He took a deep breath and walked it.

In spite of the place being kind of shady it was really busy inside. People were everywhere, the staff was running around too. Johnny walked up to the bar and turned to one of the bartenders, "Excuse me sir I'm here about the dishwasher job." The bartender gave him a funny look probably realizing that Johnny was from the south the way he talked, but they were used to all kinds of folks in New York so he didn't say anything. "I'll call Mike for you," was all he said picking up the phone. "Hey Mike there's a kid here for the dishwasher job," the bartender looked at Johnny, "how old are you?"

"Sixteen," Johnny replied shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"Sixteen," the bartender said into the phone. "Ok," he hung up, "he'll be right out." He didn't offer for Johnny to take a seat so Johnny was just standing awkwardly by the bar, biting his nails.

In a few minutes a guy walked in lazily and walked up to the bar. He was on the overweight side. He was wearing the diner uniform which was a black t-shirt with the diner's logo and a blue and black cap. He was also wearing an apron. He looked Johnny over with a smirk on his face. "Are you the one for the dishwasher job?" He asked curtly, wiping his hands on his apron.

"I am," Johnny replied nervously, swallowing hard, and then quickly added looking down, "but I don't have working papers or anything like that." The guy snorted in response. "Follow me," he said not explaining to Johnny what was so funny.

He led Johnny into the kitchen and to the dishwasher station. "The job's off the books," he said lazily.

"Off the books?" Johnny repeated confused.

"Yeah, you get paid cash so I don't really care for working papers or any shit like that." Mike was looking at Johnny like he had a horn growing out of his head. "You are sixteen are you? You are kind of small." He said sizing Johnny up.

"Am sixteen," Johnny said somewhat defensively, frowning a little and taking a few steps back.

"All right, all right I was just asking," Mike held up his hand." Where you from anyway you talk kind of funny?" Johnny wanted to say that there was nothing funny about the way he talked, but decided against it and just answered the question – "Oklahoma."

"Wow," Mike gave it a whistle, "what are you doing all the way out here?"

"I'm just visiting a friend," Johnny said quietly not wanting to give Mike any details.

"All right," Mike cleared his throat, "here's your five minutes training kid." He grabbed a dirty apron from one of the stations and handed it to Johnny without saying anything. Johnny took it and put it on. "You see this pile," Mike pointed to a stack of dishes in the corner. "This is where the waiters bring the dishes. Your job is to get rid of whatever's left on the plates and then wash the dishes separating different types - soup plates together, entrée plates together, glassware together. This pile right now is high because we didn't have a dishwasher, but for you the pile should never get higher than that," he showed with his hand a pretty low level. "That's it you are all ready to go oh, and the job is 8a.m. to 3p.m. At3 we have another guy doing it. Got it?" Johnny nodded, looking at the stack of dishes.

There was still very important thing he needed to know and that was how much he was going to get paid, but Mike seemed to forget about that part. Mike started to walk away and Johnny found the courage to speak up. "Excuse me," he called out. Mike turned around – "What?"

"I… was just wondering how… how much am I going to be paid for this?" Mike chuckled. "If you do good you get 6 bucks per hour. Like I said it's off the books you get paid hard cash kid." Johnny swallowed hard that's 42 dollars per day he thought. He felt almost giddy and was standing in stupor.

"That it?" Mike asked somewhat annoyed, "any more questions?"

"No." was all Johnny was able to muster.

"Ok then get started I'll be back in a little while to check on you. Remember I don't want the pile get higher than what I showed you."

"Yes sir," Johnny replied, turning around and grabbing one of the plates. Johnny couldn't believe his luck he was making 42 dollars per day. That sure was better than sitting under the bridge with some homeless people.

He started on the dishes right away. It wasn't as easy as it looked. The food was stuck to the plates, and the detergent irritated Johnny's skin. He wished he had a pair of rubber gloves, but he did not dare to ask Mike for them.

In about three hours Johnny was exhausted. His feet were hurting, and his hands were itching form the detergent. He stood up there for a little bit just giving himself a small break, but soon he saw Mike approaching. He almost jumped and started frantically scrubbing the plate.

"So I'm here to check on you," Mike said all business like, walking up to Johnny.

"I'm doing ok," Johnny said sheepishly as he looked up from the stack of dishes, stuttering a little.

"What's that?" Mike pointed to the pile of clean dishes, a frown of disappointment on his face.

"What do you mean?" Johnny asked, turning around.

"You didn't separate the plates like I told you to." Mike said in a really irritated tone of voice, "It's not rocket science here," he added clearly enjoying bossing Johnny around.

"Oh," Johnny bit his lower lip, "I forgot I'm sorry."

"Sorry not gonna cut it. I'll be back in fifteen minutes. I want all the dishes separated."

"Yes sir," Johnny said feeling beads of sweat form on his forehead. How could he forget. But it was because his mind was preoccupied with everything else - the murder, Dodger, eclectic chair.

In about ten minutes Mike was back. Johnny had almost all the dishes separated. "Step on it kid," Mike said impatiently, "we don't have all day." With that Mike disappeared into the kitchen, and Johnny pulled all his strength focusing on the dishes and not thinking about the murder or Dodger.

In about an hour Mike was back, "you get a twenty minute break so you can eat. You can buy stuff right in the dining room." he said lazily, leaning on the wall. Johnny was really hungry but didn't want to spend the money. "I'm just gonna go outside for a smoke," he said, putting one of the plates down and wiping his hands on a paper towel.

"Suit yourself," Mike replied, indifference in his voice.

Johnny went outside and lit up. He was standing taking deep drags on his cigarette, trying to turn away from the wind so it doesn't put out his cigarette. This job was much harder than he thought it would be but he will be paid a whole 42 dollars. He went back inside thinking how he will write to Dally and the gang about surviving in New York.

For the rest of the day Mike was busy and didn't stop by to check on Johnny. At 3 sharp he walked by the dishwashing station. Johnny still wasn't finished with the dishes that the waiters just brought up.

"Ok, that's a wrap," Mike said to Johnny.

"But I'm not done," Johnny said apologetically, pointing at the dirty dishes.

"You did ok for the first day, but you are going to have to pick up the pace if you are to stay here." Mike didn't sound as angry as he did before.

Johnny was quiet, and Mike figured out what he was thinking. "You don't get paid the first week," he said matter of factly, "then at the end of the second week you'll be paid." Johnny was a little disappointed he wouldn't get paid for a whole week but there was nothing he could do about that. Now Johnny had to go back to the bridge for the rest of the day and most importantly to spend the night. He really wasn't looking forward to that.

He remembered that once when Daly was telling him about New York he said him and his dad slept at the homeless shelters sometimes. It was really cold outside and Johnny knew he wouldn't be able to get any sleep under the bridge and now that he had this job he couldn't afford being tired the next day. He had to move fast washing those dishes. Johnny didn't realize he was just standing in one spot not moving, while Mike was walking towards the exit. "What's the holdup?" Mike tuned around.

"Oh, sorry," Johnny said and started walking towards the door. When he reached Mike he stopped and said, "Excuse me do you know if there is a shelter anywhere around here?"

"What?" Mike looked puzzled as he was opening the door.

"Homeless shelter, is there any around?" Mike cleared his throat, "I thought you said you are visiting a friend."

"I am, but he has very little space. I can't stay there. I don't want to burden him." Johnny tried to sound believable, but Mike looked like he wasn't buying that, and was eyeing Johnny suspiciously. Then he spoke up, "hey whatever your deal is I don't really care." Johnny exhaled relieved, he thought Mike was going to give him hard time about it.

"There is Catholic Charities on Greenpoint Avenue."

"Is it close by?" Johnny asked hopeful.

"Not that close you've got to take the train."

"I can't walk there?"

"No way. Take the C train to Greenpoint Avenue. Get off the train and walk about a block north. It's right there you can't miss it. It's a pretty good place, they even have showers there." He was now eyeing Johnny's worn out jean jacket and Johnny realized that he probably looked like he hadn't showered in a while.

"Ok thank you," Johnny said and exited the room.

"The train station is a block away from here," Mike yelled after him, "just walk a block and then turn left."

"Thank you," Johnny yelled back, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you kid." Mike said closing the door.

This Mike was a pretty nice guy, Johnny thought. Sure he was a bit rough but he didn't pry about why Johnny needed a shelter and told him how to get there.

Johnny started walking towards the train station. This neighborhood sure was shady. Surprisingly for this time of the day the street was empty. The wind was strong, and Johnny flipped the collar of his jacket up and kept walking. He saw the wind flipping the pages of the newspaper on the ground. Johnny ran up to it and grabbed it. It was The New York Times. He quickly flipped through the pages checking if there was anything about the murder in Tulsa. There was nothing, and Johnny started to believe that maybe he could actually get away with this, though he would miss his friends something awful. He threw the paper back on the ground and kept walking.

Johnny was almost by the train station when he heard heavy footsteps behind him. "Hey bro got a light?" a raspy voice called out. Johnny turned around, "Yeah, I got a light." He put his hand into his pocket looking for the lighter but at this very moment the stranger grabbed Johnny by the collar – "give me your wallet." Johnny was really scared and was about to give the stranger the money when he remembered that he actually had a gun. His hand flew to his other pocket and he retrieved the gun and pointed it at the stranger. He was trying to think what Dallas would do in a situation like this.

The stranger jumped at the sight of the gun "oh no! don't shoot! I let you go, I let you go just please don't shoot."

"Get the fuck out of here." Johnny yelled and he was surprised at how strong and tough his voice sounded. He rarely cursed, but he was trying to act more like Dally and it was working, he thought. "Go," he yelled, "before I change my mind." The stranger turned around and started taking shaky, quick steps in the direction where he came from and then started running turning around to see if Johnny and the gun were still there.

Johnny was holding his breath. In spite of having the gun he was really scared. On shaky legs Johnny turned the corner and kept walking towards the train station. As he kept walking he saw Brandon and Pete walking, wheeling their carts. They stopped by the garbage can and were looking for any empty cans or bottles that they could recycle for money. Johnny felt pity for them and he was so thankful that he got this dishwasher job. Before Johnny could walk by, Brandon spotted him. "Hey, Johnny," he yelled, "where are you going?" Johnny walked up closer to him. "I am going to the shelter, Catholic Charities try and spend the night there." Brandon snorted.

"What?" Johnny asked confused.

"You won't get in." Brandon said matter of factly.

"Why is that?" Johnny frowned.

"Do you know how many people are trying to get in? There is a line a block long."

"So, I'll get in line then. There is still time till the night." Johnny sounded unsure, like he was trying to convince himself rather than Brandon.

"All the same you won't get in. People stand in line since morning and they don't get in. You think I haven't tried it. You think I like spending the night under the bridge?" Johnny was silent, he didn't know what to say. Finally, he sighed and said "I'm gonna try to get in." Brandon gave him a sad smile, like Johnny was hopeless.

Johnny walked to the train station. He went down the stairs and waited for the C train. He took the train to Greenpoint Avenue just like Mike had told him. By the time he reached the shelter it was 4p.m. In spite of the hour of the day there was a huge line by the shelter. People were poorly dressed, were carrying their belongings in garbage bags, some people smelled really badly. It was a very sobering sight. Johnny got in line. He tried not to get discouraged, but deep down he knew there was no way he'd make it into the shelter.

At about 11p.m. a woman walked out the door "We are full for the night," she announced, "Please come back tomorrow." There was a roar among the crowd, and some people were shouting "please just for one night," some were trying to get past her and inside, but she held out her arm and stopped them. She went inside and locked the door after her. Johnny was devastated. This site of all these homeless people in this huge city and to think that he was one of them it was overwhelming. What a hell was he going to do, he thought, blood rushing to his temples. 42 dollars per day seemed like a lot of money if you just spend it on food and maybe train fare but would it be enough to rent a room even if it's the shittiest room there is, even if it's in someone's basement.

Johnny's thoughts were interrupted by some sort of rustling sound behind him. He turned around and saw an old man dressed in a t-shirt two sizes too large unwrapping a chocolate bar, making the rustling sound. Johnny's stomach growled - he hadn't eaten since morning. He couldn't help it but stare at the chocolate bar his eyes wide and his mouth watering. The man eyed Johnny suspiciously, then all of the sudden smiled revealing some missing teeth. He split the bar in half and stretched his arm giving Johnny one half. "Here son," he said, "take this." Johnny felt bad taking what might be the man's meal in God knows how long, but he was so hungry. "Thank you," he said barely audibly taking half o f the bar and then added, "I haven't had anything to eat since morning." The man frowned.

"Is that right?" the man asked eyeing Johnny curiously, "you don't have to starve you know." the man said looking directly at Johnny. "There's this place," he cleared his throat, "they feed everyone three hot meals a day and they even give out snacks like this chocolate bar." he took a bite and started chewing on it. "Too bad they don't keep people overnight and I still got to stay in this shitty line, but at least I don't have to starve."

"They feed you for free?" Johnny asked in disbelief.

"All free," the man nodded. "It's called Times Square Brotherhood Center. They play music for you and talk about God and give you food. I'm Neil, by the way, what's your name son?"

"I'm Johnny."

"What are you doing on the streets at your age anyway?" Neil gave him a concerned look. Johnny frantically thought of what to say. "My both parents died," he lied, "and I have nowhere to go." He mumbled.

"But you are not form around here," Neil said.

"No," Johnny replied, his voice quivering a little, "after my parents died I came here to stay with a friend, but I learned that he passed away too. So I'm all on my own."

"I'm sorry about your parents and your friend," Neil took another bite of the chocolate bar.

"Can you please tell me where this place is?" Johnny asked, chewing.

"It's on Times Square, kind of far from here. Do you have change to take the train?"

Johnny hesitated a little, "I have a few dollars."

"Take the R train to Times Square and when you get off walk half a block and then turn right, it's right there. Anyway looks like we are going to be camping out here for the night. C'mon," He walked to the side, and motioned for Johnny to follow him.

There were a few alleys with benches around the Catholic Charities building. "C'mon we can settle on those benches," Neil said. Johnny cautiously followed him, he didn't know if he could trust him. Now that Johnny told him he had a few dollars what if he tried to rob him. Homeless people can be desperate sometimes, Johnny thought. In the meantime Neil took out a worn out coat out of his bag. He sat down on the bench and covered himself with the coat. It was really chilly, and Johnny wished he had a coat too. "Here," Neil spoke making Johnny look up. He was holding an old blanket that had holes in it.

"Thank you," Johnny said taking the blanket. He settled on the bench covering himself with the blanket. He decided that he was not going to sleep even though that would mean he'd be tired in the morning.

Johnny hasn't slept for the whole night. In the morning the bright sunrays were shining on his face. He looked around - Neil was still asleep on the bench next to him. Shit what time is it? Johnny looked at the watch, it was 7a. had to be at the diner by 8. He quickly got up and ran his fingers through his hair hoping it'll look ok.

By 8 sharp he was at the diner. His day was uneventful. He was washing the dishes as fast as he could, and was yelled at by Mike for not being fast enough. At the end of his shift he was exhausted. He was ready to start his trip to the Times Square Brotherhood Center. He got to the train station looking around not wanting to get mugged again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok guys here is the next chapter, enjoy. Huge thanks to FrankElza, One Wing In The Fire and MehItsAutumn**

In the mean time in a half lit room in the back of the Times Square Brotherhood Center two men were having a discussion. One man bald with dark blue eyes wearing a brown Armani suit and a younger man in his twenties with brown hair and brown eyes wearing a white button down shirt and black slacks.

"We can't go on like this," the older man said folding his arms on his chest. "It's way too risky. The cops have a trail on us." The young man nodded frowning. "I know. We need a new place for storage. Mark's place is not safe anymore, but I got no one who would be willing to take the risk or that the cops don't have a trail on. We need someone who the cops would never suspect, someone who is not part of the game." The older man cleared his throat and nodded, "exactly, I wish some of the hoodlums that come here to eat had a place, but they are all homeless bastards."

At this moment the door opened and Johnny walked inside. The room was big, with high ceiling, and it was really bright inside. Johnny squinted as the bright light was hurting his eyes. There were rows of tables and chairs, and there were a few black, cozy arm-chairs in the corners, and a nice black couch along one of the walls. The place was full of people eating, sitting at the tables and there was a small line by the counter – people trying to get food.

Johnny got in line. He couldn't believe this place, there was so much food. There were burgers, fried chicken, meatloaf, mashed potatoes and mac and cheese. He got mashed potatoes and fried chicken. It reminded him of Tulsa. He also got a cup of hot tea.

After Johnny ate he wandered into the other room. It was some sort of an auditorium with a stage and chairs arranged in rows on the floor. Johnny sat down on one of the chairs in the corner.

Soon the auditorium was full of people. Some nice, relaxing music was playing. The older man in Armani suit walked up onto the stage. The lights were dimmed and it felt nice and relaxing. Johnny was exhausted after his shift at the diner so he was trying to relax.

"Hello everyone," the man said, holding the microphone really close to his lips, "For those of you, who don't know me I am Carl. I am your mentor, but most importantly I am your friend. I am here to serve you. Before we start our service I'd like to ask anyone who is new today to stand up." Johnny didn't know if he should stand up or sit this one out. He decided to stand up in case Carl sees him later and realizes that he's new, but didn't stand up. So Johnny stood up. So did a few other people. "Thank you," Carl smiled widely. "I would like to welcome you to the Times Square Brotherhood Center. Please enjoy the service and enjoy the food. If you have anything troubling you that you would like to talk about you can always talk to me or my assistant Tom. You may sit down now." Johnny was relieved that he didn't have to speak. For a minute there he thought Carl would make the new people introduce themselves.

Next Carl started to speak. "Let's thank God for bringing us all here today, thank him for what we still have in this life. At times it may seem that we don't have much but we do. Please turn to the person next to you and say 'bless you'. We all have blessings in our lives and we shouldn't take them for granted." Everybody did as told. "We may think at times that what's happening to us is a misfortune, but it's God testing us, testing our faith." Carl walked back and forth on stage, looking directly at the people as he spoke. His voice sounded powerful and authoritative.

Johnny listened carefully. He wasn't overly religious, but he hoped that God existed, or at least he tried to believe that. Carl was speaking so passionately and with such a conviction that Johnny felt goose bumps on his arms. After Carl was finished he turned the music back on, and everybody was listening and clapping their hands.

The service was over, and people were getting up from the chairs and going back into the dining room. Johnny, however, still felt exhausted. He was so comfortable in his chair in the corner of the room. He hadn't slept all night so he was feeling really sleepy. He closed his eyes and gradually drifted off to sleep.

The next thing Johnny knew someone was shaking him. "Hey, kid wake up." Johnny opened his eyes and rubbed them sleepily. He looked at the man that was shaking him – it was Carl, and Tom the younger man was standing next to him. "Hey, I'm sorry to tell you, but you need to leave, we are about to lock up," Carl said. Johnny looked out the window - it was pouring. He hung his head.

"Hey, you are the new kid," Carl said, meeting Johnny's gaze, "How did you like the service?"

"It was great, I liked it a lot," Johnny responded honestly, sinking deep into the chair, wishing he didn't have to leave and go into the rain. Hearing Johnny speak, Carl immediately asked, "You are from the South aren't you?" He looked curiously at Johnny.

"I am," Johnny said simply, rubbing his eyes again, "I am from Oklahoma."

"What are you doing all the way out here in New York?" Carl asked curiosity in his eyes.

"I came to visit an old friend, but turns out he passed away." Johnny got up from the chair and started walking towards the door.

"I am so sorry," Carl called after him.

Johnny really didn't want to go into the rain. He felt uncomfortable asking Carl if he could stay the night, but he forced himself to ask. He turned around, "I don't mean to be rude," he found the courage to say, but maybe you could let me stay here for the night. I have nowhere to go, it's only for a week though. Next week I am going to get paid at my job, and I am going to rent a room." Johnny didn't notice but Carl and Tom exchanged a quick, knowing look.

"Tell you what kid," Carl said softly, a friendly smile crossing his lips, "you can stay here, we'd hate to let you go out into this rain."

"Oh, thank you so much," Johnny said relieved, walking back into the room. "I won't steal or nothing". Carl smiled a kind smile –"I know you won't." So Johnny settled comfortably in the chair and fell back to sleep.

In the mean time Carl and Tom were sitting in a car outside. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Carl asked starting the car.

"Yes," Tom replied an evil grin on his face "he is perfect. He's from another state, he's not part of any gang, he desperately needs a room. I think it will work beautifully all we got to do is earn his trust and we got a deal."

The next day after work Johnny was back at the Brotherhood Center. He was eating his mac and cheese and thinking that it really was a blessing that he found this place. Soon Carl walked up to him. "How'd you sleep?" Carl asked with a kind, caring smile.

"I slept really well, thank you for letting me stay," Johnny replied through mouthful.

"Oh it's really no problem," Carl replied softly, "We couldn't let you go back into that rain. How's the food?"

"It's delicious, thank you," Johnny gave him a smile.

"You don't have to thank me. That's what we do here - we feed those in need." He said with that kind smile of his. "Tell you what, you said you can rent a room in a week."

"Yes," Johnny nodded, taking a fruit cup and carefully picking up a peach with his fork.

"Until then you are welcome to stay here. We don't want you sleeping on the streets." Carl put his hand on Johnny's gently.

"Really?" Johnny asked in disbelief, food forgotten.

"Really."

"Oh, thank you so much, this means a lot" Johnny got up from his seat and held out his hand to Carl. Carl smiled and shook Johnny's hand.

"Please," Carl said, "don't mention it. Actually I was thinking you are new to New York I'd like to take you on a tour tomorrow and then you can visit my house for dinner." Johnny was caught off guard, "oh that's really nice of you but I don't want to burden you." Johnny was just standing there, his hands down, looking at Carl in disbelief, no one outside of the gang had ever been so nice to him, especially an adult.

"Oh that's no burden at all," Carl insisted, "it'd be my pleasure. Tom can manage without me here."

"Ok," Johnny said, feeling a little awkward, "thank you."

The next day Carl took Johnny around the city. At first Johnny felt apprehensive, but Carl was really nice about everything, and Johnny felt really thankful that he made a friend in this huge and intimidating city that could swallow you alive. He missed his friends, and having Carl by his side made him feel less lonely.

At the end of the day they stopped by the big sign that read Macys. "What are we doing here?" Johnny asked, while looking at people with huge shopping bags exiting the store.

"We are going to get you some new clothes," Carl said casually like it was no big deal.

"Oh, no it's not necessary, you already have done too much," Johnny protested and started to walk away from the store.

"We are going to my house where you'll take a nice hot shower and put your new clothes on." Carl said, grabbing Johnny's hand and starting to walk towards the store. Johnny was lost for words, he was stunned. Carl got him a pair of jeans, a few t-shirts and a new jean jacket. Johnny felt uneasy "you didn't have to do that," he bit his lower lip and sighed.

"Please don't worry about it Johnny," was all Carl said. "You'll repay me when you can afford to." That made Johnny feel a little better he figured he'll pay for the clothes when he got paid at his job.

Next they went to Carl's house. Johnny noticed how big and fancy Carl's house was. He wondered how he could afford it. Johnny took a nice hot shower which was long overdue, and slept in a nice soft bed in the guest room.

The week went by really fast. Johnny worked till 3 in the afternoon and ate at the Brotherhood Center and went to sleep. At the end of the week he was paid $295. That was the largest sum of money he ever had in his hands. He rolled the money in a roll sticking it into his pocket and went to the Brotherhood Center. Carl met him in the hallway like he always did for the entire week. "How are you today Johnny?" he asked as usual.

"I'm fine, got paid today." Johnny replied proudly, shaking Carl's hand.

"You did, didn't you?" Carl replied with a warm smile.

"So now I got to find a room to rent." Johnny said, taking his jacket off and hanging it on the back of his chair, then proceeding to go stand in line to get the food.

"Let me know how it goes." Carl playfully slapped Johnny's shoulder.

By the end of the following week Johnny found a room in the basement of an old lady's house. Her name was Maggie. She charged 600 dollars per month which was really cheap for New York and left Johnny plenty of money to spend on other things. He kept going to the Brotherhood Center not so much for food anymore, but for Carl's speeches and for Carl's friendship.

Johnny was glad that things seemed to be working out ok. In the evening he sat down to write a letter to the gang. Just thinking about them made him sad.

 _Hey guys, how have you been? I miss you something awful but I am doing ok. Nobody here knows who I am and I checked the newspapers there was nothing about the murder of Bob. I guess they are still looking for me in Tulsa. It turned out that Dally's friend Dodger is no longer alive, but I got a job out here washing dishes. I don't like it a whole lot but it pays alright. I met this guy Carl he is really nice. He runs a center for the homeless and gives out free food. He let me stay there overnight when I didn't have any money but now I am able to rent a room. So that's it about me. Hope you are doing well, miss you._

 _Johnny._

Johnny stared at the sheet of paper, which was his letter, for a moment, then sighed, thinking about his friends, folded the letter and put it into the envelope. He'll drop it off on the way to work tomorrow, he thought.

 **So there is no Dally in this chapter yet, but starting about chapter 6 there is going to be a lot, and I mean a lot of Dally in this story.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok guys, here is chapter 4. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited and followed, it really means a lot.**

On Monday Carl, Tom and Nicole were sitting in the back room at the Brotherhood Center. Nicole was a drug addict, who helped Carl and Tom deal.

"So, I'll introduce you," Carl said to Nicole, getting up from his seat and walking across the room.

"Ok," She nodded. She was wearing a short blue dress, her light brown hair was down and she was wearing a lot of makeup - raccoon eyes and bright red lipstick.

"So you get the idea," Carl continued, leaning against the wall, "sweet talk him, make him like you. You are a pretty girl it shouldn't be a problem. We don't have much time left. We can't leave the stuff at Mark's place for longer, the cops are really onto him." Tom looked at Nicole, "wash that stuff off your face I have a feeling he is not into that." She made a face, "what's wrong with it?" she hissed.

"For starters it makes you look older, and he's only sixteen."

"Fine," she said lazily blowing a bubble with her gum.

After work Johnny usually went right to the Brotherhood Center. He really enjoyed Carl's speeches, and he was glad he could rely on his friendship and advice. Today was the same - he opened the door and walked in. Nicole was behind the counter, and Carl was standing next to her. As it was Johnny's turn to get the food Carl looked at him and said "Hi, Johnny let me introduce you to my friend Nicole. She volunteers here. Nicole this is Johnny."

"Nice to meet you," Nicole smiled stretching her hand over the counter. Johnny shook her hand, and he couldn't help it but notice how pretty she was. She was wearing a blue blouse and not much makeup. No eyeliner only mascara and a lip gloss.

Carl walked away, while Johnny stayed to get the food. "I haven't seen you around," Nicole said smiling.

"Oh I've been here only for two weeks," Johnny replied, looking down. He felt awkward and self-conscious talking to strangers, especially girls.

"Oh, and I was out for two weeks that's why I haven't met you." she smiled again. "Would you like a burger or mashed potatoes with chicken?"

"I'll have a burger please." He said as politely as he could manage. She put the food on a plate and gave it to Johnny. As he was about to walk away she looked at him and said, "Hey Johnny, Miles is out today do you think when you are done eating you can help me out here a little since it is only me, and we have a lot of people to serve?"

"Sure," Johnny managed, walking away.

After Johnny ate he walked behind the counter and started serving food. He was feeling self-conscious standing next to such a beautiful girl, but he tried to manage as much as he possibly could.

"So Johnny," Nicole asked scooping mashed potatoes onto a plate and giving it to the guy in line, "what brings you here?"

"I came to visit a friend, but it turns out he's dead." Johnny said. His hands were shaking, that's how nervous he was. He dropped a fork on the floor when Nicole started talking to him. She pretended that she didn't notice that.

"Oh that's awful," she exclaimed, "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," Johnny replied, picking up the fork.

"So what are you going to do?" she asked casually, walking up to the coffee maker and pouring some into a cup.

"I decided to stay here for a while. Got a job and rented a room and everything." Johnny said looking down, avoiding her gaze.

"That's cool," she said with a soft smile, "I volunteer here, but I'm actually an artist. I paint, and I have exhibits all over the city." Johnny was thoughtful for a second. "That's tuff," he finally said with a small smile.

"Tuff?" she repeated question in her eyes.

"Oh, it means cool where I'm from."

"Oh it _is_ pretty cool actually. As a matter of fact I have an exhibit next Saturday you should come and see." Johnny's face turned bright red. Nicole chuckled "you don't have to dress up or anything it's casual, you can wear jeans."

They talked a little more. She told Johnny that she was eighteen, lived on her own since she was fifteen. She grew up in a poor Brooklyn neighborhood, and her dad was a drunk and her mom didn't care about her that much. Johnny instantly felt closer to her as she told him that. She said her art was what got her through tough times. Johnny thought that Nicole was really easy to talk to and he started to relax a little bit. He was surprised that she invited him to her exhibit, she just met him. But she was Carl's friend, and maybe she was just a friendly person he thought. This is New York and not Tulsa so maybe that's just how things are around here.

On Saturday Johnny was awkwardly entering the Brooklyn Art Center. His palms were sweaty, and he quickly wiped them on his jeans. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt that Carl got him and his hair was brushed neatly - no grease, though he still had bangs covering his eyes.

He walked in and saw that it was pretty crowded. A lot of people were walking from painting to painting and talking. He tried looking through the crowd for Nicole but couldn't spot her. He was just standing there when someone's hand landed on his shoulder. He turned around abruptly and saw Nicole. "You made it," she smiled. He nodded. He couldn't help it but notice that she looked absolutely beautiful. She was wearing a silk white dress that went just below the knee.

"Let me walk you around." Nicole smiled again. Needless to say Johnny didn't know anything about art. He was very worried that he wouldn't be able to understand the paintings or say something stupid. They walked over to the first painting. It was a tiger done in very bright colors - oranges and blacks and his eyes were especially bright - bright green. The tiger looked full of force like he was ready to go after his prey but on the tiger's nose there was a small red and brown butterfly small and gentle and the tiger didn't seem to mind or shoo the butterfly away. "This one means that…" Nicole started,

"That strong and weak attract each other and need each other," Johnny blurted out before he could think.

"Exactly what I was going for, and you said you don't understand art." Nicole laughed, and Johnny's face started to turn red. They walked over to the next painting. It was two horses - a black stallion and a white horse running through a field of grass. "They are so carefree," Johnny noted.

"I wish I could be so carefree," Nicole sighed. Johnny wondered why she couldn't but didn't pry.

They kept walking form painting to painting, and Nicole would explain to Johnny what it was about or sometimes he would speak up first. They were laughing and enjoying each other's company or at least that's what Johnny thought. He felt like he knew her for a long time, like she could be one of the gang. Johnny felt like he was starting to like her but he tried to shut down those feelings as he knew he had no chance with her.

For the next two weeks Johnny and Nicole met every day at the Brotherhood Center. They talked, listened to Carl's speeches and sometimes volunteered to serve the food. Johnny really liked Nicole, and he was bummed about it because he thought it was impossible for her to like him back.

On Friday night Johnny stayed at the center till 9p.m. Him and Nicole were serving food. Johnny was about to leave, approaching the door when Nicole called after him "Johnny?"

"Yes?" he turned around.

"I was thinking… would you like to go to the movies with me or something?" Johnny was stunned - was she asking him to go out with her on a date. He kept silent in shock.

"Johnny?" Nicole prompted.

"Sure," he finally managed.

"How does tomorrow sound?" Nicole asked meeting his gaze.

"Tomorrow's fine." Johnny hardly found his voice.

"We can first meet here, stay to listen to Carl speak, and then we can go from here." "Sounds good to me," Johnny forced himself to say.

The next day Johnny was really nervous. He was going out on a date with a girl he really liked. He hated that he had nothing decent to wear, but he didn't have the money for that. So he settled for jeans and a different t-shirt. He met Nicole at the Brotherhood Center. "You look nice," she said smiling brightly walking up to him.

"Thanks, you too," he blushed.

As always they listened to Carl speak first. Today his message was especially powerful. He was talking about the power of forgiveness. He was saying that it is important to forgive those who hurt you, and Johnny couldn't help it, but think of his parents. He had forgiven them a long time ago, but he couldn't help it, but still feel hurt.

After the speech Nicole and Johnny got outside, and Johnny started to get the change for the subway, but Nicole grabbed his hand. "I'm parked around the corner."

"Oh," was all Johnny said, putting the change back into his pocket. They turned the corner and Johnny saw a black Cadillac parked by the curb. It was beautiful.

"That your car?" Johnny asked in disbelief, she nodded. Johnny wondered how she could afford this car. From what she told him, she wasn't rich. All the same he admired the car. It was the nicest car he'd ever been in. They got in, and she drove. It was a nice night the beginning of November. It wasn't too chilly. They rolled the windows down and the nice Fall breeze wash brushing against Johnny's face and playing with his hair.

Nicole drove fast, which reminded Johnny of Dallas, and he felt a pang in his stomach thinking, remembering and wondering why nobody wrote back to him. They must've forgotten all about him now that he's not there. They don't care anymore, he thought.

Soon Nicole and Johnny arrived at the movie theater, and Nicole parked the car. Johnny was being a real gentleman and got out first and opened the door for Nicole to get out. It was taking Johnny incredible effort to keep it together, to make sure he knew what he was doing and preventing his hands from shaking. They got some popcorn and cokes and went in. The movie theater was pretty crowded. "There," Nicole pointed to the seats in the very back.

"Ok," Johnny started walking towards the seats.

The movie was a romantic comedy about a girl who couldn't decide which guy she should pick out of all the guys that wanted to go out with her. Johnny didn't really like it all that much. He thought it was pretty silly, but Nicole seemed to enjoy the movie, and he was enjoying the fact that he was with her.

All of the sudden she put away the popcorn and casually placed her hand on Johnny's knee. He automatically tensed up, then she turned half way and placed her lips on his. Johnny felt panic, he never kissed a girl before. What if he did it wrong, and she was going to laugh at him. She seemed to notice his hesitation, but didn't get mad or didn't laugh at him as he expected. Instead she wrapped her arm around his neck and moved in closer. "Easy," she whispered softly, "just like this." She placed her lips carefully on his and deepened the kiss. Johnny tried to move his lips the way she did, finding the rhythm. He was glad it was dark in the movie theater and she couldn't see his face being beet red.

They kept it going for a while then they were out of breath and had to pull away. What should I do now, Johnny thought frantically, should I say something? He looked at Nicole, and she chuckled. He felt his face get redder if that was possible. She ran her fingers through his hair and whispered "I really like you Johnny," he mustered up the courage and looked her in the eyes and whispered back "I really like you too." She grabbed his hand and placed it in hers. They sat like that, holding hands till the end of the move.

Two weeks have passed. Johnny fell head over heels for Nicole and spent every spare moment with her. He was also thankful to Carl. He saw him as a father figure since he didn't have much of a father. But Johnny wasn't entirely happy. He was wondering why there was no letter from the gang. Could they really forget all about him, could they abandon him, even his best friend Ponyboy or his hero Dally? I have to get used to that, he thought bitterly. I have a whole new life now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing and favoriting/following. It keeps me motivated to write more.**

It was Friday, and Johnny was supposed to go to a party with Nicole. Her friend was throwing it and it was supposed to be artists and writers. Johnny was really intimidated, but there was no way he could avoid going. They met up at the Brotherhood Center as always and went from the. Johnny was wearing jeans, a navy blue t-shirt and a jean jacket. Nicole was wearing a black dress which was short but not too short and black stilettos which made her taller than Johnny, which made him cringe. But he was so in love. It wasn't just the way she looked it was who she was on the inside too or so Johnny thought. Usually after hearing Carl speak at the Brotherhood Center Nicole and Johnny would talk about life, death, God and Johnny found Nicole very intelligent and very spiritual and on top o that she was an artist.

At around 9p.m. they walked into a large apartment. It was dark and foggy inside. Through the fog Johnny could see the shelves on the walls with various pottery art – different figurines and shapes. There were also weird paintings on the walls. One especially caught Johnny's attention. It was a big man painted red, and he was eating with his fork little yellow men. Really weird, Johnny thought.

The music was loud, and people were dancing, drinking and smoking. The smell of the smoke told Johnny it wasn't just regular cigarettes, it was pot. Nicole introduced him to a couple of people. She hugged the guys and said 'this is my boyfriend Johnny.' He liked the sound of it. He was her _boyfriend,_ he was really making it in New York. The guy whose apartment it was walked up to them and hugged Nicole kissing her on the cheek, "this is my boyfriend Johnny," she said again, "and this is Martin." Martin held out his hand, and Johnny shook it.

"Please get some drinks, have fun," Martin said. Johnny felt like his legs were stiff and overall he felt very apprehensive and shy and a little humiliated. But he was so happy to be with Nicole and nothing could overshadow that happiness.

The people were dressed weird - some guys wore see through net style shirts and some were shirtless. They had a lot of body piercings and tattoos. Artists, Johnny thought, they are weird.

Nicole's first task was to get Johnny drunk. "Let's get a drink," she hurried to say. Johnny wasn't too thrilled about it. He tried beer before and wasn't too sold on it. There was a counter full of different drinks- martinis, margaritas, gin, there were also beer bottles and vodka and Captain Morgan. Nicole grabbed two Martinis and went back to Johnny. He took the drink reluctantly. Nicole drank hers right away, while Johnny carefully took a small sip. Nicole was looking at him expectantly, and he felt a little humiliated. To his surprise the drink wasn't disgusting like he expected it to be. Instead it tasted sweet and fruity. Johnny took the rest in a few gulps.

"Tastes good doesn't it?" Nicole said, walking onto the dance floor. Johnny nodded, following her.

"Let's get another one." She walked back to the counter and returned with two more drinks. The stuff tasted good, but it was strong. When Johnny wasn't looking she poured her drink into the garbage can. Everybody was dancing and drinking. People were pretty drunk. Johnny didn't know how to dance, but the drinks made him more relaxed and less self-conscious. He was looking at the other couples dancing and copying their moves. He was pretty good at that. From time to time Nicole brought more drinks, and Johnny drank it. He was actually having fun and he was mesmerized by Nicole's beauty.

Johnny had three more Martinis and a glass of Captain's and coke. He started to feel unsteady and seeing double. He grabbed Nicole's hand and pulled her closer – "Let's sit down for a minute." They sat down on a couch. Nicole put her arms around his neck, and started kissing him. Johnny felt hot, he never felt this way before. He felt so lucky and grateful. He was pretty drunk. "Let's go to another room," Nicole whispered getting up.

They walked into another room. It was pretty dark - the only desk lamp was on while the main light was off, but Johnny saw clearly there were about ten people in the room and they were sitting on the floor in a circle. In the center of the circle there was a guy. He was holding a syringe in his hand. Each person stretched their arm and the guy injected the drugs. At first Johnny was shocked. "They are shooting up," he mumbled.

"They are," Nicole replied like it was no big deal, "have you ever tried it?"

"No," Johnny frowned.

"You should, it feels really awesome and amazing. I shoot up all the time. It helps me to be creative. I do a lot of my art when I'm high and it turns out really great. It feels great I'm telling you," she added. She spoke with such conviction that Johnny thought what if it really is no big deal. Everybody is shooting up. Look she's doing it and she's ok, got her art going on. A lot of people back in Tulsa were doing drugs and they were still ok so he'll be ok too. He trusted her, she was a good person, she believed in the same things Johnny did. If she said it was ok then it was. He was still drunk and wasn't thinking clearly but he sure didn't want to look like a wimp. He rolled up his sleeve and stretched his arm for the guy to inject the needle.

"Please be gentle it's his first time," Nicole chuckled, and Johnny wasn't sure if she really cared or she was making fun of him. After Johnny was done Nicole shoot up too. "What is it?" he asked her.

"Coke," she replied.

Nicole grabbed Johnny's hand and dragged him to the corner of the room. They sat on the floor Nicole still holding Johnny's hand.

"Try to relax you are gonna feel real good," she whispered. Johnny leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He felt the warmth of Nicole's body next to him. Her fingers intertwined with his. He started to feel fuzzy and warm inside. He felt at peace. His muscles relaxed. He opened his eyes and the room seemed foggy. He giggled to himself. He felt like he was flying, like his body was here on the floor but he was flying above.

"Do you feel good?" Nicole asked, looking at him expectantly.

"Yeah, really good," Johnny said softly pressing his hand in Nicole's. "I didn't know if I was going to like it, but I do."

"Of course you do." Nicole ran her fingers through Johnny's hair. She moved closer and stated kissing him on the neck gently. She placed one hand behind his back and the other still in his and started kissing him on the lips. When she pulled away Johnny exhaled. "I love you Nicole," he murmured. She hesitated a moment her plan was working, "I love you Johnny," she whispered and kissed him gently on the lips again.

They sat like that huddled together for the rest of the night.

"You may think me doing drugs I should be ashamed," Nicole spoke up, "but I'm proud of it. Who says it's wrong. It helps me, it helps a lot of people. It helps me be creative, it helps other people deal with all kinds of issues like being abused, or it helps Vietnam veterans to deal with pain and flashbacks and it helps people who have nightmares." She spoke so passionately about this and she was so beautiful and talented she convinced Johnny that it was ok. He didn't have a lot of friends in New York only Carl and Nicole and he was not about to mess that up. "Do you understand?" Nicole asked, looking at Johnny her beautiful grey eyes wide.

"Yeah, I do, I really do," Johnny whispered happily, squeezing her hand.

On Monday morning while Johnny was at work Nicole, Carl and Tom were sitting in the back room in the Brotherhood Center. "So?" Carl asked his gaze full of anticipation.

"I got him where I want him," Nicole said proudly. "He was shooting up on Friday and said he liked it."

"Good job," Tom encouraged, walking over to Nicole's seat.

"You are looking at a pro," Nicole smiled a selfish smile. "I told him it helps people to deal like Vietnam veterans to cope, he agreed with me. He is all into brotherhood and helping each other and shit like that. He always talks about it after Carl's speeches." Carl smirked, "I'm good at shit like that, am I not?"

"Yeah," she gave him a crooked smile.

Carl tapped his fingers on the desk, "How long before you ask him to store the stuff at his place?" he asked a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I don't want to rush it," she replied lazily, "so give me another week."

"What if he doesn't go for it?" Tom asked, concern in his voice.

"Oh believe me he will." Nicole replied confidently.

For the next week Nicole showed up at Johnny's place every day. They always shoot up and talked about stuff, and Nicole felt like she could control him in every possible way. That he would do whatever she told him to. Johnny got really attached to her. He needed a friendly soul in this huge and lonely city and especially since he has not heard from his friends from Tulsa and was sure that they forgot all about him and abandoned him.

The following Friday Johnny was supposed to pick Nicole up at her apartment. She prepared and rehearsed everything she had to do. When Johnny walked in she appeared to be crying. Johnny's expression immediately changed to concern "What's the matter? What is it?" he asked affectionately, taking her hands.

"Oh Johnny I don't know if I can tell you," her voice quivered as she spoke.

"You can tell me anything. I can keep any secret you tell me," he said baffled, going into the kitchen and getting a glass of water. "Here drink this and please tell me what's wrong."

She took a few sips of water and took a seat on the couch. Johnny sat down next to her and took her hands. "What's wrong? Please tell me what's wrong." She sobbed again. Then she almost whispered "the cops are after us."

Johnny's eyes got wide, "What do you mean?"

"The guy that stores the stuff, they booked him. Now we don't have a place to keep it. They are onto all of us. We have no place. They came here with a warrant and did a search. People are waiting. Like I said we give it to Vietnam vets and to abused and hurt. They are waiting, they are relying on us, and we can't help them no more. I don't know what to do, I just don't know what to do." she took her hands out of Johnny's and covered her face, her shoulders shaking wildly. Johnny wrapped his arms around her shoulders and was quiet and thoughtful for a minute, then he sighed, "My place, you can use my place." he said firmly.

"Really?" she said looking up at him fake tears rolling down her cheeks.

"You and Carl did a lot for me. The least I can do is repay a favor. And the cops will never know. I'm new, I'm form out of state and don't have any connection to the guy that they busted."

"Johnny," she whispered, "you are my savior."

"I wouldn't let anything bad happen to you," he whispered back. She moved closer and kissed him on the lips. "I don't feel like going out tonight let's just stay in." "Ok, you got it." Johnny brushed a strand of her hair out of her eyes.

 **So starting the next chapter Dallas is going to be in the story, so stay tuned**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you everyone who reviewed, followed/favorited.**

Dallas finished his cigarette and threw the but into the ashtray. He looked around the room where all the guys were gathered as always at the Curtis.

"I can't believe it's been over a month, and Johnny hasn't contacted us yet." He said walking across the room and leaning on the wall.

"Maybe he doesn't have the money for the call." Soda piped up unenthusiastically like he was just saying it to make Dallas and the gang feel better.

"I gave him fifty bucks," Dallas replied "that's sure enough for a damn phone call."

"Maybe he just forgot all about us. He's now running with the big boys in New York. We don't stand a chance against those guys," Pony croaked, looking down and sounding really upset.

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Darry offered looking up at Pony from his recliner.

"I don't like this one bit," Dally lit up another cigarette. "It ain't like Johnny to bail on his friends." Little did they know that Johnny didn't bail on them. He wrote to them, but they never got his letter as it was lost in the mail. "New York is no joke," Dally continued, taking a drag on his cigarette, "shit happens, what if something happened to him. Maybe I ought to go down there try looking for him."

"Let's wait a few more weeks," Darry said firmly, "if we don't hear anything then maybe you should go."

Another month passed by. Things seemed to be going ok for Johnny. Johnny stored the drugs in the bottom drawer in his closet. The junkies showed up at his place and he gave them the drugs. It was different stuff - sometimes syringes, sometimes white powder and sometimes pills. He was never paid for it. Johnny was concerned that the owner of the house may start suspecting something with all these people showing up at the door, but she was an old lady, who just minded her own business, and the only thing she cared about was Johnny paying rent on time and he did that. It also helped that he had a separate entrance form her.

Johnny saw Carl and Nicole every day, and he also shot up every day, and the more he did the more he liked it.

It was a cold December morning, Dally casually stopped at the Curtis. Darry, Pony and Soda were having breakfast when Dally showed up. Dally had a backpack over his shoulders, a blade in one pocket and Johnny's picture in the other.

"Hey Dal," Darry greeted, "join us for breakfast."

"No time," Dal replied. The three looked at him puzzled. "I'm going to Ne w York just stopped by to say good-bye. I have a bad feeling, Johnny would never abandon us like that." Darry gave Dallas a concerned look, then got up from the seat and went into his room. He was back a minute later with a wad of cash in his hand. "Here," he stretched his arm holding out the cash to Dally, "take this."

"You don't' have to give me cash superman," Dally protested, "I've got cash."

"C'mon you are going for all of us so the money should be from all of us too. Take it. I ain't letting you out of the house until you take it." Dally snorted and stretched his arm. "Fine Curtis be that way." Darry smiled in return. "Go get Johnnycake out of trouble."

"Let us know right away when you know something," Pony looked at him with concern in his eyes.

"You got it." Dally said. "Ok I'm off," with that he turned around and exited the house.

"I hope that Johnny is ok," Soda said, taking a swig of his chocolate milk.

"But that would mean he abandoned us," Pony furrowed his eyebrows.

"Would you rather him be in trouble, maybe hurt?" Soda asked turning to Pony.

"I just don't know anymore," Pony shrugged. He was visibly upset. He moved his plate with pancakes aside and got up from his seat and went to his room without saying another word.

On the way to the train Dally was thoughtful. He felt guilty for waiting for so long. I should've gone the first week when we did not hear from him, he thought. What if he is really hurt? The negative thoughts crawled into his mind, what if he was mugged, what if he was dead. The thought made Dallas shudder. Johnny was the only one Dally cared about. We could lose anyone, but him, he thought. At this moment Dally hated the socs more than he had ever hated them before. If it wasn't for socs always jumping greasers Johnny wouldn't be in this mess. Dally lit up a cigarette and quickened his pace walking towards the train.

When Dally arrived to New York it was late at night. He wanted to go and immediately ask someone about Dodger, but he would have to wait till the morning. He knew New York pretty well, even though some things have changed. Dally took the train to Flatbush Avenue and found a motel.

That night Dally couldn't sleep. He lay in his bed on his back wide awake chain smoking and staring at the ceiling. His thoughts were gloomy. He ran every scenario of what might have happened to Johnny in his head. Maybe he should've gone with him to begin with Dally thought. Find Dodger, make sure that everything was ok, then he could go back to Tulsa. Or maybe he should've stayed in New York with Johnny.

In the morning Dally grabbed a cup of coffee in the lobby and was on his way. He was walking the street looking for someone who looked like a gang member, like they may know about Dodger. Walking here in New York the very streets he walked when he was young, Dally couldn't help it but remember his past. He was remembering his old gang and the whole thing that sent him to jail. He was looking at people as he was walking, looking them in the faces almost expecting to meet someone he knew, but they were all strangers going about their business, not paying Dally any attention.

Finally Dally spotted a liquor store. That might be a good place to ask for Dodger he thought. He walked into the store not bothering to ground his cigarette. There was a line by the register. Dally was never shy, but he felt weird just talking to strangers. Nevertheless he cleared his throat and walked up to the line. He looked at the man in front of him. He was wearing a heavy jacket and a baseball cap. "Hey bro," Dally addressed him." I'm looking for Dodger, I was told I can find him around here, do you know where I can find him?"

"Dodger?" The man looked at him puzzled, "I don't know who he is. Hey, Sam," he spoke to the man in front of him "you know anyone who goes by Dodger?"

"No," the man shook his head, "haven't heard of him." A few people in the front of the line turned around and Dally asked if anyone knew where he could find Dodger, but no one even knew who he was. Dally thought that was weird, everybody used to know who Dodger was. Then Dally took Johnny's picture out of his pocket. "What about this kid? Anyone seen him around here?" Nobody had seen Johnny, and Dally left the store empty-handed.

Next Dally walked into the coffee shop. The one, where Johnny got breakfast when he just got to New York. But since it was a while ago nobody remembered him and nobody knew about Dodger either, which Dallas found really odd.

For the next week Dally kept looking for Johnny. He asked at the supermarkets, and on bus stations. He looked at the junk yard in case Johnny was hiding out there. He asked people hanging out in the backyards no luck. Finally, he was walking under the bridge, his head down, when he saw two homeless men sitting on the ground. They were Brandon and Pete. It was snowing lightly and it was a good place to hide from the snow under the bridge. Dally felt hopeless, but decided to ask anyway. He walked up to the men and they seemed tensed up, preparing to fight.

"Easy," Dally held up his hand. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm looking for Dodger, do you know where I can find him?" The man frowned.

"You are the second one looking for Dodger in these parts, but Dodger is long gone."

"What do you mean?" Dally asked, having a bad feeling.

"He got the electric chair two years ago, for murder. After that his gang just fell apart. What business do you have with him?" The man asked curiously. Dally felt a pang in his stomach, his old friend was dead. He forced himself to focus though. He must find Johnny. Dally ignored the man's question. "You said I'm the second one looking for him, who was the first one?" Dally felt his heart beat a little faster, he might have found Johnny.

"It was a kid from Tulsa or some shit like that." Dally swallowed hard. "This kid?" He showed Johnny's picture.

"Yeah, that's the one. So are you looking for Dodger or for the kid?"

"I'm looking for the kid," Dally replied putting Johnny's picture back in the pocket and folding his hands on his chest, "he was supposed to be with Dodger, but since Dodger is gone I don't know where he is. Did he tell you where he was staying?" The guy smirked. "I've seen him about two months ago, and he was going to the shelter. I told him he wouldn't get in, but he didn't listen." Dally felt sick. He remembered staying at the shelter with his dad a few times. What was the name of it he thought, then he remembered. "Catholic Charities, right?" he asked Brandon.

"That's the one," Brandon nodded, "that's the only one around here." Dally grounded his cigarette and was on his way, not even thanking Brandon for the information.

Dally kept walking, the snow crunching under his feet. He hoped to God that Johnny was staying at the Catholic Charities and was safe, but that wouldn't explain why he hadn't contacted the gang for so long. Something was telling Dally he wouldn't find Johnny at the shelter.

As Dally was approaching the shelter he saw a long line of those trying to get in. He sighed and then walked up closer. He scanned the line and Johnny wasn't there. Next the woman walked out of the door and let about six people in. She was about to go back in when Dally ran up to her. "Excuse me ma'am" he said, trying to sound polite for once, "I'm looking for a friend," he took out Johnny's picture, "is he staying here?" She looked at the picture.

"I'm sorry, but your friend is not here, I would remember."

"I know he tried to get in," Dally insisted, "would you mind showing the picture to everyone in line, maybe they know something." He could sound pleasant when he wanted to, and right now he wanted to. The woman eyed Dally suspiciously, and took the photo reluctantly,

"Ok." She held up the picture in her hand. "May I have your attention," she yelled into the crowd. People stopped talking and were looking at her- some annoyed, some expecting her to let them in. "Has anyone seen this young man on the picture around here? His friend is looking for him, and thinks he was here at some point." The picture wasn't that big and people were squinting to see.

Dally was about to leave, when a man in the line yelled "I've seen him here about two months ago." It was Neil. Dally paled, "Did he get in?" Dally asked hoping for the better.

"Nope," the man said.

"Do you know what he was planning to do? Where he was going to stay?"

"I don't know where he is staying his nights, but I think I know where you can find him." Dally didn't say anything just gave him a look that was desperate. So Neil continued, "The kid was hungry, said he didn't eat the whole day, so I tipped him off about this place where he could get food for free."

"Where?" Was all Dallas was able to say.

"It's called Times Square Brotherhood Center and it's on Times Square. I'm pretty sure you'll find him there." Dally was overwhelmed. He was about to walk away when Neil stopped him. "Hey, how about a few dollars for the information?" Dally nodded. He took out a five dollar bill and gave it to Neil. "Thank you sir." Neil said taking the money.

Dally started his journey to the Brotherhood Center. He was almost running. Food for free, this is new, he thought as he ran, there was nothing like this when he was living on the streets of New York.

As he approached the building he saw none other than Johnny walking out, holding Nicole's hand. That's new, Dally thought instantly feeling mixed emotions. Johnny seemed fine, so why didn't he contact them? Was Ponyboy right, did Johnny not care about them anymore? Dally felt anger, but decided not to jump to conclusions. "Hey Johnny," he called out after him. Johnny looked up and froze. "You know him?" Nicole asked casually. Johnny found it difficult to speak. "Just go without me," he shot to Nicole, "I'll explain later." She left, and Johnny was still standing in his spot. Dally walked up to him.

"Hey man, I know about Dodger, how have you been?" Dallas tried to keep anger out of his voice, hoping Johnny had a good explanation for not contacting the gang.

"Fine I guess," Johnny replied coldly, not even looking up at Dallas.

"Fine? 'That it?" Dally now let the anger clearly show in his voice. He took out a cigarette and lit up.

"Yeah, fine, that's it." Johnny repeated, glaring at Dally and not moving from his spot.

"You are doing fine and you didn't bother to contact us? You know we were worried sick, thought something really bad happened to you. Pony is real hurt that you forgot about him, you forgot about all of us." Dally wasn't trying to control his temper anymore, and his anger was plainly present in his voice and the way he spoke.

"I forgot about you? You guys forgot about me." They were now yelling at each other in the middle of the street. It was snowing, and the snow was landing on their faces and their clothes, but neither of them bothered to wipe it off, "I wrote to you guys, and you didn't bother to write back."

"Wait, what?" Dally stopped yelling, and just looked at Johnny baffled. "You wrote to us? We never got anything."

"Don't bullshit me." Johnny yelled, but it wasn't anger in his voice, it was hurt. Dally suddenly felt cooled off. Of course he wrote to them, of course he wouldn't forget about them. "Johnny, look at me. I'm being honest we never got any letter or anything, must've gotten lost in the mail or something."

"Honest?" Johnny sounded a little cooled off too.

"I swear." Dally sounded dead serious looking Johnny right in the eyes. All of the sudden Johnny felt relieved. So, the letter just got lost in the mail, his friends didn't abandon him, and Dally, his hero bothered enough to come to New York looking for him.

"All right then. I'm sorry I yelled at you." Johnny walked up closer to Dally.

"Don't worry 'bout it man, as long as you are doing ok. Who's the broad that was with you?" Dally smirked.

"Don't call her that," Johnny said a little defensively, "she's my girlfriend."

"Oh, is that right?" Dally gave Johnny a crooked smile. "So where do you crash?" "I got a job." Dally gave it a whistle. "It's nothing fancy, it's a dishwasher job but they didn't ask for no documents or nothing .They pay me cash so I'm renting a room in the basement in Brooklyn."

"So, I guess I'll crash there with you tonight." Johnny wasn't too thrilled about that. He knew that junkies would be coming to get the stuff and he didn't need Dally to know about that, but he couldn't say no to Dally.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you so much to everyone for reading, reviewing and following/favoriting. Here is the next chapter, enjoy**

Johnny's room wasn't much, but luckily there was a bed and a couch and a small desk by the window. There was also a small kitchen area, a small hallway with the mirror on the wall and a bathroom.

"I don't have much food around," Johnny said walking into the kitchen, "All I got is some cereal."

"That'll do," Dally replied taking a seat at the table, "Shit, I'm just so glad you are ok, man we were thinking the worst."

"'m alright." Johnny said seriously, stretching his arms to get the cereal from the top cupboard. As he did so the sleeve on his left arm got pulled up. Dally saw a big puffy scratch where Johnny used to shoot up.

"What a hell is that?" Dally grabbed Johnny's arm. Johnny tensed up. "Oh this is nothing, scratched it at work with a fork. It was an accident." Dally gave Johnny one hard, knowing look, but didn't say anything. Dally was no idiot and he realized you don't just accidently scratch yourself with a fork to the point where you have a scratch mark on your arm. The first thing that popped up into his mind was drugs, but he tried to shoo this thought away. Surely Johnny, their little Johnnycake, the innocent puppy wasn't doing drugs. Maybe he got it in a fight that he doesn't want to talk about or something like that Dally tried to convince himself.

Just as Johnny poured the milk over the cereal the door bell rang. Johnny tensed up visibly. "Stay here," he ordered, and Dally frowned, he was not used to hearing this tone of voice from Johnny. Johnny went and opened the door. "I can't do it today," Johnny said through clenched teeth to the guy at the door. The guy didn't seem to get the message. Dally was impatient and got out into the hallway, "go back into the kitchen," Johnny yelled at him franticly. Dally raised his eyebrows - Johnny yelling that was new. He lazily started walking towards the kitchen but stopped by the mirror in the hallway. He could see in the mirror Johnny by the door talking to the guy. "I can't do it now," Johnny was whispering. "Come back tomorrow I'll be alone." Dally bit his lower lip. What a hell was going on, he thought. After the guy left Johnny went back to the kitchen and started eating as if nothing was wrong.

Dally spent the night. The next morning Johnny woke up early ready to go to work. Dally was still sleeping, and Johnny decided not to wake him. He left a note for him and left for work.

As soon as Dally opened his eyes he saw Johnny's note that said "went to work don't open the door for nobody and don't pick up the phone." Dally was fed up. What a fuck, he thought. He started to search the room. It was easy since Johnny literally had no belongings. Dally opened the closet and there under a bunch of newspapers he saw the drugs. What a fuck he thought, what is this little shit doing. Dally was seething. So that's why he has that scratch on his arm. He's fucking shooting up. So that's how he is making it in New York, I see, Dally thought. I was in gangs but never into stuff like this. I'm outta here. He left the drawer with the drugs opened, then grabbed his backpack and walked out the door.

On his way to the train station Dally was devastated. He felt like he lost a brother today. Johnny was supposed to be the clean, innocent one and now look at him shooting up and dealing drugs.

Having pretty dark thoughts Dally got on the train. He felt uneasy about leaving and besides, what was he supposed to tell the guys? But he convinced himself that leaving was the right thing to do. If Johnny wanted to do drugs he could do it on his own. Dally went to the back of the train to smoke a cigarette. After an hour standing there chain smoking Dally was still feeling bad about leaving. Johnny needs me, he thought, I gotta pull him out of what he got himself into. Dally grounded his cigarette. He got into position and jumped off. He rolled on the ground and got to his feet. He wasn't hurt. He wasn't that far from New York yet.

At four in the afternoon Dally was standing by Johnny's door ringing the bell. Johnny thought it was one of the junkies and walked up to the door. He opened the door and saw Dallas. Johnny was in the middle of shooting up and the needle and the drugs were on his desk. Dally walked in. When Johnny got home, he saw the drawer with the drugs opened, and realized what Dallas had done, that he knew about him shooting up. At this point Johnny didn't even care that Dal knew. He felt no need to hide anymore he silently got the syringe in his hand. He needed his fix now. If he didn't get it he'd have withdrawals and would be throwing up. Dally held his breath at the scene -Johnny proceeded to slowly and methodically insert the needle into his vein. He bent his arm when he was done. He looked down and relaxed.

About five minutes passed, Dallas was still standing in the doorway and neither of them said a word. Then Johnny looked up at Dallas from under his bangs, "I'm really glad you are back, Dal." He said it really quietly almost a whisper.

"Oh Yeah?" Dallas swallowed hard, finally walking into the room, "So tell me everything." Johnny hesitated a moment. Then he got up from his seat and went to the couch. He lied down turning his back to Dallas and started to speak.

"I got here like you told me. I found out Dodger is dead so I had nowhere to go. Then this guy at the shelter told me about a place where you can get food for free."

"I know this much," Dal said, taking a seat on the chair across from Johnny "Go on."

"You guys weren't writing to me so I thought you forgot about me, you didn't care. I had nobody in this huge, lonely city I had nobody to call my friend. Then I met Carl at the Center. He is running it. He's a really good guy."

"I could see that," Dally said sarcasm in his voice, "he hooked you up on drugs, made your room into storage, real good guy, needs a medal for that."

"Don't you judge him," Johnny said defensively, "he _is_ a really good guy. He took care of me when I didn't have any money, he bothered to take me on a tour around New York City, and he bothered to bring me, some homeless hoodlum from Tulsa, to his house and gave me new clothes to wear and food to eat and a roof over my head." Dally swallowed hard, "don't you think it's a small price for having you store the drugs? Do ya know what kind of shit you'll be in if you get caught? Johnny was silent so Dally continued,"What about the broad she's in on it?"

"Don't you talk about her like that," Johnny turned around abruptly. He looked like he was ready to attack Dallas.

"All right, easy," Dally held up his hand not knowing what to expect from Johnny when he is drugged up.

"You know," Johnny said sitting up, "she opened my eyes on things - who's to say shooting up is wrong. I'm not ashamed of it. Nicole explained it all to me - they are helping do ya know that?"

"No I don't." Dally snapped.

"Well they are, they are helping Vietnam vets to get over their stuff, they are helping abused like me she explained it all to me, it all makes sense now."

"I can see that, it makes perfect sense" Dally sighed. He realized this wasn't going to be easy what a hell was he going do to do. Johnny was clearly brainwashed by these people.

All of the sudden Johnny's eyes welled up with tears. He fought to control himself but he couldn't and tears started rolling down his cheeks, "I… really, really missed you Dal," he said with a catch in his voice. "Please stay with me Dal."

"Really?" Dally asked almost softly, and Johnny nodded. Dallas was alerted with Johnny's outburst. He knew that telling him that he'd only stay if Johnny stopped shooting up was useless Johnny was hooked and he'd chose the drugs over Dally, but he thought if he stayed he might be able to do something to stop this shit. "Alright." Dallas grounded his cigarette and walked up to Johnny. "I'll stay with you," he said carefully wiping off Johnny's tears with his thumb.

A few days went by. Dally called the guys, because he knew they were anxious to hear if he found Johnny, and if Johnny was ok. He didn't tell them about Johnny being on drugs, just said there was a problem they need to take care of. Darry tried to get it out of him what kind of problem, but Dallas wouldn't say a word.

The junkies showed up, and Johnny gave them the drugs. He also continued to shoot up. Dally couldn't take it anymore. One day he took the drugs and hid them in the motel room. He was risking a lot and he knew it, but he was willing to take a risk. That meant Johnny couldn't shoot up. Dally wanted to destroy the stuff – flush it down the toilet or burn it, but he left it in case Johnny had really bad withdrawals and Dal would have to let him shoot up a small dose.

The next morning Dallas, who usually slept past Johnny, because Johnny had to be at work by 8a.m. was awaken by Johnny, who was paler than a sheet.

"Whatcha waking me up for?" Dally said lazily covering his eyes with his palm.

"Where's the stuff?" Johnny sounded deadly.

"I threw it away," Dallas replied casually as if they were talking about some light matter.

"You what?" Johnny felt weak in his knees and took a step back.

"I threw it away," Dallas said really casually and then continued, "you know since you woke me up I think I'm gonna start breakfast." Dally started getting up from the couch.

"You jerk," Johnny punched Dallas in the chest causing him to fall back on the couch.

"You can cuss all you want," Dallas said through clenched teeth, "you ain't getting it back. You wanted me to stay I'm staying, but I ain't watching ya kill yourself."

"What a hell is wrong with you? How am I 'posed to go to work?"

"Here, smoke this," Dally got up, reached into the pocket of his jacket and gave Johnny a joint. "You'll feel better." Johnny had total utter panic in his eyes.

"Dally, I'll lose my job."

"Don't care," Dallas hissed in response, "you'll lose your life if you keep doing what you've been doin'." With shaking hands Johnny took the joint. He flopped onto a chair and smoked it right away.

"How'd ya feel?" Dally asked trying to keep his voice steady, not let Johnny know that he was worried.

"I'm fine now," Johnny replied in a raspy voice "but I'll feel like shit later."

"If you do, go straight home the hell with the job." Johnny just glared at Dal. He slowly got up without another word and left the house slamming the door on the way.

By the time Johnny got to the job he had a huge headache. He started on the dishes as always. It was humid in the room. Johnny started to feel hot and sweat was dripping down his face and his spine. He silently cursed Dally. He felt so bad that he was considering running off. He started feeling dizzy and seeing double. He was walking up to the sink with a few plates in his hands, but tripped and fell the plates breaking into millions tiny shards. Mike was there right away. "What a hell is wrong with you? You are going to pay for those plates." Johnny felt really irritable from withdrawals so he almost snapped at Mike, but controlled himself. "I'm really sorry, I'll make it up and I'll pay for those plates."

"You bet you will," Mike said gruffly.

Johnny got the mop and started cleaning up the mess. He felt freezing cold now and he felt like he needed to throw up though he hadn't eaten anything so there was nothing there but bile. He quickly finished up mopping and ran to the bathroom and threw up. Then he came back and kept washing the dishes. He felt awful.

He saw the waitresses serve drinks to the customers an idea formulating in his mind. He thought if he drank he'd feel better. He chose a moment when nobody was looking and went to the bar and grabbed a bottle of Scotch. There were so many bottles nobody would notice if one was missing. He got back to his station and took a sip. The liquid tasted bitter and burned his throat, but he took another sip and then again and again. He hid the bottle behind the stack of dishes and kept drinking thought the day. At first it made him feel a little better but then it made him feel much worse. By the time his work day was over he was totally drunk.

Johnny got outside and he hardly made a few steps when he threw up again. He was walking unsteady, swaying side to side. It was December and it was snowing pretty hard, but Johnny didn't seem to notice. In fact he felt hot. He was thinking about what Dallas did, and that Carl and Nicole will be mad at him for losing the drugs. He realized that those drugs were worth a lot of money. He felt like he let them down. His thoughts were mixing up, and he was sweating profusely. He wandered the streets for hours in hopes of feeling better, but he only felt worse. Finally by 11p.m. he made it to the Brotherhood Center. He opened the door and walked in. It was dark inside, and nobody was there. Johnny started to walk to the auditorium and collapsed onto the floor between the chairs and passed out cold.

Dally was sitting on the couch head in his hands a cigarette in his mouth. I shouldn't have let him leave like this. He got up and started pacing the room. The door bell rang, and Dally jumped up from his seat. He hoped it was Johnny, but why would Johnny ring the bell? He had the key. Dally walked up to the door and opened it wide only to see a guy wearing a dark blue jacket, hood covering his face. "Who the fuck are you?" Dally cursed.

"Who the fuck are you?" the guy replied. Dally realized that it was a junkie to get the stuff. "You ain't getting nothing here no more," Dally snapped, "and tell the other ones so they can save the trip." with that he slammed the door in the junkie's face.

Johnny opened his eyes. He didn't know where he was. He looked around carefully and finally realized he was at the Brotherhood Center. He attempted to get up and go look for Carl, but his legs refused to cooperate. Frustrated he lied back down on the floor. It was dark, and he couldn't see anything but he could hear faint voices from the other room. Johnny tried to listen. In a minute he recognized that the voices belonged to Carl, Nicole and Tom. "So is everything under control?" Carl asked.

"Oh yeah," Nicole laughed, "The other day he told me he loved me." Both Carl and Tom started laughing, and Johnny got a bad feeling in his stomach.

"He's such a tool," Nicole continued. "He had never been with a girl before not even kissed a girl I had to show him how and he's sixteen," she laughed again. Johnny's heart sank he felt bewildered and overwhelmed.

"Keep up the good work," Carl said, "It really is working great and does not cost us a penny."

"I know Tom echoed him."

Johnny's heart fell. She was using him, they were all using him. Dal was right. Johnny was ready to cry from being so hurt. He really loved Nicole, and now that he knew that she was just playing him he had to give her up. Johnny got up carefully making sure not to make a lot of noise. Once he was out he started running, crying hysterically, tears rolling down his face. So it was all a lie, a game and here he thought he was making it in New York.

Johnny ran into the house tears smudged all over his face.

"Oh Johnny," Dallas jumped up from his seat, "I was about to go look for you."

"Oh Dal…"

"Are the withdrawals really bad?" Dallas asked and walked up to Johnny. To his surprise Johnny proceeded to hug him. Dally awkwardly embraced Johnny. "What is it man, just tell me." Johnny got out of Dal's embrace and started pacing "You were right Dal," he choked up on his tears.

"Right about what?"

"Carl, Nicole that they were just using me. I know it now." Dallas frowned and stopped himself from saying 'I told you so'.

"Calm down man, I'll make you some tea." Dallas went to the kitchen to make the tea while Johnny collapsed onto the couch.

Dally entered the room with a cup of hot tea and gave it to Johnny. He sat down carefully on the edge of the couch, "So how'd you find out?" Johnny took a sip, "I overheard them talking. I was drunk I drank a bottle of Scotch." Dallas raised his eyebrows, "where did you get the booze?"

"At the diner, I swiped it when nobody was looking." Johnny took another sip of the tea.

"Why'd you do that?" Dallas took an empty cup from Johnny and put it on the desk.

"I thought it'd make me feel better and not feel the withdrawals."

"Did it?" Dallas sighed.

"A little at first but then I was really messed up. I went to the Center and I passed out and when I came back to senses I overheard them talking. It was all a game." Johnny sounded hopeless, "Nicole was playing me the whole time. She said some really mean things about me," he sobbed.

"For what it's worth I'm sorry man."Dallas put his hand on Johnny's shoulder.

"Now do you see you have to quit this stuff?" Dally said next. Johnny was silent for a few minutes. Then looked up thoughtfully at Dallas from under his bangs- and said, sitting up on the couch, "I'm gonna go back to Tulsa and turn myself in." Dallas gave it a whistle, "are you sure man? That is what you want to do?"

"Yeah," Johnny said firmly. "I don't want to be living scared for the rest of my life. I miss Ponyboy and I miss you all guys. If I'm lucky the judge will see it was self-defense and I'll be let off easy. But before we go I want to get off this stuff."

"Ok, "Dal swallowed hard, "you got it. I'm gonna be here with you every step of the way. You are gonna be ok, I'll make sure of that. Now get to bed you still have a couple of hours before the morning."

"Ok I'm beat," Johnny said pulling his t-shirt off. He climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up all the way to his nose so only his eyes were showing.

"How are you feeling?" Dallas walked up to the bed.

"Not too good." Johnny turned to his side, facing Dallas.

"Try to fall asleep."

"I wish I had me some sleeping pills," Johnny mumbled closing his eyes. Luckily he was able to fall asleep soon.


	8. Chapter 8

**Ok, here is chapter 8. Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing and Meggels don't you worry this isn't the end of the story yet. We still got a couple of chapters left.**

Johnny opened his eyes and yawned. He rubbed his eyes sleepily. He sniffed the aroma of cooking eggs.

"How'd you sleep?" Dally asked from the kitchen.

"Dal, I think I'm gonna be sick," was all Johnny was able to manage and sprinted to the bathroom. Dallas dropped the spatula and ran after him, but Johnny locked the door. "Johnny are you ok? Open up the door," Dallas turned the doorknob, "I want to help you."

"I'll be fine, I'm fine," was all Johnny said, "I don't want you to see me like this."

In about fifteen minutes Johnny emerged from the bathroom. He looked paler than a sheet. "Shit," was all Dally said. "Get back to bed I'll bring you food." Dallas scooped the eggs onto a plate.

"No, I've got to go to work I'm late already." Johnny found a clean t-shirt and put it on.

"The hell you are. Now call them and tell them you are quitting." Dally said sternly, pointing a finger at Johnny.

"No Dal, I can't do that." Johnny ran his fingers through his hair.

"I thought you said you want to go back."

"I do but in the meantime we need the money."

"I have enough money to last us for a while. It should be enough time for your withdrawals to stop and you getting off the stuff."

"But what if it's not enough or it'll take longer than you think for me to get off the stuff?"

"Then I'll go out and get a job not you. Now call them tell them you quit."

"Are you sure?" Johnny insisted. Dal took the phone receiver and gave it to Johnny. So Johnny told Mike he was quitting. Mike didn't take it too well, but that was the least of Johnny's concerns. "C'mon back to bed," Dally ordered. Reluctantly Johnny climbed back into bed, and Dally brought him a plate with scrambled eggs and bacon. It smelled delicious.

"When did you buy food?" Johnny asked, chewing a crunchy piece of bacon.

"This morning while you were still asleep." Johnny was quiet for a second then looked down and said, "Thanks Dal… for everything."

"I'm here for ya kid," Dallas said with a catch in his voice.

All of the sudden Johnny felt really hungry. He downed the scrambled eggs and bacon in no time. Then Dallas brought him a cup of tea, and to Johnny's surprise another joint.

"Where you got it from?" Johnny smiled weakly. Dallas smirked, "got it of some bum on the street." Johnny smoked the joint and went back to sleep. So far the withdrawals aren't too bad, he thought.

Johnny was awaken by the door bell. He was too sleepy to get up, but he knew exactly who it was. It was another junkie wanting the stuff. Johnny was going to get up, but Dally held up his hand – "stay where you are, I'll handle it." He said in a tone of voice that did not allow for any disagreement. Johnny sat up in bed. He listened apprehensively as Dallas was telling the junkie off calling him a few names and telling him to forget this address.

Two weeks passed this way - Johnny had pretty bad withdrawals. He threw up a lot and his bones and muscles were hurting. Dallas was there with him all the time. The junkies showed up daily, and Dallas told them off real good. Needless to say Johnny stopped going to the Brotherhood Center, and he stopped seeing Nicole. She called after about a week of Johnny not showing up at the Brotherhood Center. Johnny refused to talk to her, and Dallas told her off real good, told her that she was a conniving snake and to leave Johnny alone.

On Monday Johnny was sitting in bed fully dressed and wrapped up in blankets. He was feeling freezing again. There was a bell at the door and as always Dally went to get it. This time he was faced by a man in his fifties wearing a fancy coat and a fedora. "Hi, is Johnny home?" the man said in a very polite voice.

"And who the hell are you?" Dally spat at him.

"I am Carl I need to speak with Johnny." Dally's face turned red with rage. "So you are the bastard that started all this shit."

"I would choose your language really carefully if I were you," the man said through clenched teeth walking into the room.

Dallas swung his arm preparing to hit Carl.

"Dal, don't…" Johnny managed from the bed.

"Shut up, Johnny, this bastard deserves it," he punched Carl right in the shoulder. Carl swayed and the fedora fell on the floor. Carl stretched both his arms and grabbed Dally by the neck and started choking him. Dally kicked Carl with his leg. Carl let out a weak scream while Dally got out of his grip and started punching him in the stomach. Then he swung his arm again and punched him in square in the mouth. Carl's lip began to bleed.

"Better leave Johnny alone," Dal's voice roared.

"You better get the stuff now," Carl spat in response, "or you'll regret it."

"You get your stinky stuff then I don't ever want to hear from you again. Meet me on Flatbush between 67th and 68th at 3 tomorrow you'll get your stuff and then you better leave us alone." Carl glared at Dally, "it better be there tomorrow," then he quickly bent down and got his fedora form the floor and rushed outside.

Dallas was breathing heavily "shit I need a drink now," he said.

"Are you ok Dal?" Johnny managed from the bed.

"Peachy," Dallas replied sarcasm in his voice, but at the same time a sly smile crossing his lips. "Bastard, I got him real good, he'll know not to mess with us." Johnny was silent for a moment and thoughtful. He glanced at Dally and said carefully "I thought you said you threw the stuff away."

"Forget what I said," Dally waved his hand. "Now that you are off the stuff you can know the truth. I kept it in case you were doing really badly and I needed to give you a small dose. Also I knew the bastard would try to get his stuff."

"I'm feeling much better now," Johnny said, "I think we can go back to Tulsa." Dally lit a cigarette and took a drag, "I need to do one more thing here, and then we can go back."

"What's that?" Johnny asked quietly, brushing the bangs out of his eyes with his hand.

"I got…" Dally trailed off, "I got to visit Dodger… at the cemetery."

The next day at three in the afternoon Dally was standing on Flatbush Avenue between 67 and 68 a black garbage bag in his hands. The weather was nasty. It was snowing and raining at the same time. The snow on the ground turned into slush, and the falling prickling snow landed on Dally's face. He cursed as he accidently stepped into a puddle and wet his feet.

Dally was waiting for about ten minutes when a black Cadillac rolled around the corner. The Cadillac stopped by Dally and the driver rolled the window down. Dally recognized Carl. He stretched his arm through the window. "Take your shit, and forget you ever met the kid or you'll regret it."Dally shoved the bag in Carl's face. "This better be everything," Carl roared, rolled the window back up and drove away. Dally cursed under his breath and spat on the ground.

Carl walked into his house and proceeded to take a seat at the desk. He didn't bother to take his coat or his boots off. He took the bag and emptied its contents onto the table. Syringes, powder, pills. He smiled a vicious smile and started emptying the packages taking out the liquid in syringes and the powder out of the plastic and the pills out of its packaging. He proceeded to put the contents into the toilet and flushed. Then he took the empty packages and put them back into the bag. He took the bag and left the house.

The Cadillac drove by a tall building on Fulton Street. There seemed to be people waiting for Carl. One of them was wearing a dark blue jacket with the hood over his head. The junkie's name was Chris. The one that showed up at Johnny's house to get the stuff and was told off by Dally. Carl drove up to the crowd. Chris got inside the car. "Did you get it?" He asked anxiously. Carl handed him the bag. Chris looked inside and saw just the empty packages. "Who did this? Who emptied out the stuff?" Chris asked desperately.

"The one that's staying with him," Carl replied, leaning into his seat.

"He won't get away with this," Chris said a deathly tone of voice. "We'll take care of him."

"I know you will," Carl nodded in approval.

The next day Dally and Johnny got up around 10a.m. "I got to go visit Dodger you'll stay by yourself for a little while. Ok?" Dally said putting his jacket on and zipping it up.

"Don't worry about me, man," Johnny nodded.

Dally got to the cemetery and found Dodger's grave. The weather was nice for New York Winter – just a little chilly, but no snow and no wind. It was quiet and peaceful at the cemetery. Dally looked around. The tombstones on the other graves were decorated with flowers, they must have gotten a lot of visitors. The tombstone on Dodger's grave was dirty, unkempt – no visitors for him, Dally thought. He just sat there, his thoughts gloomy, remembering the old times. "I wish things didn't have to turn out the way they did," he whispered and took a drag on his cigarette. He stayed a little longer and then headed back.

When Dally approached the house he didn't notice a group of guys following him. He turned the corner so did they. "Hey bro," one of them spoke up. Dally turned around confused. He was not in the mood for this, he was really sad after visiting Dodger's grave. "Hey," the tall guy with a hood, Chris spoke, "let's step aside for a minute," Dally recognized him - he was the one who came to the house to ask for the stuff and was told by Dally to get lost.

"Where's the stuff?" the guy said in a threatening voice.

"Hey I'm not in the mood for this," Dally yelled, "what a hell do you want?"

"We want the stuff."

"Ask your fucking asshole I gave it all to him."

"Ok, enough bullshit," the tall one spoke up. He stepped forward. Dally tensed up. He was no coward, but there were ten of them.

"I see you don't understand speaking nicely we'll talk differently then."

"How differently?" Dallas said sarcasm in his voice.

"Ok, enough talk," they surrounded Dally, and the tall one shoved him in the shoulder. Dally didn't even move. Then another one swung his arm and hit Dally in the mouth. His lip started bleeding. Dally punched him back and punched the other two in the stomach. But there were ten of them. One of them picked up a very heavy tree branch and used it as a sword. He walked up to Dally form behind and hit him on the head. Dally fell onto the snow. He started seeing double and then passed out. Chris started kicking him with his feet. "Ok let's go," the other one said, "he got the message." With that they left.

Dally opened his eyes and looked around. He was lying in the snow, and the snow was red in a few places where the blood from Dally's head had dripped. He groaned and tried to sit up. It was not easy. He was hurting everywhere but he willed d himself to sit up and then got up onto his feet. His head was hurting the most. He placed his hand on the back of his head, and then looked at it - it was covered in blood. "Shit," Dally cursed. He took a few shaky steps almost falling again. Luckily this wasn't far from Johnny's house.

Dally walked in and leaned on the wall. The room was spinning in front of his eyes. The room was small and he saw it right away. He saw Johnny lying on the bed his arms spread out, three empty syringes on the floor. "Oh God," Dally ran up to hm. "Johnny!" he yelled desperately. There were no drugs in the house when Dally left so Johnny couldn't have done it himself. Also he would never shoot three whole syringes. This must be Carl's doing. Dally frantically grabbed Johnny's wrist and checked for pulse. It was weak, but it was there. Dally sprinted up to the phone. "Emergency, please my friend, he overdosed on drugs please hurry up," Dally yelled into the receiver. He put the receiver down and wiped the sweat that was pouring down his forehead. He knelt down and grabbed Johnny's hand. "Hang in there for me brother, oh please hang in" He was as close to tears as he had ever been.

Dally kept checking the pulse and at some point there was none. Dally went frantic. Finally the paramedics arrived. "He has no pulse," Dally yelled.

"How long ago?" the paramedic yelled back.

"Just now," Dally replied desperation in his voice.

"We'll resuscitate him," the paramedic yelled. They placed Johnny on a stretcher and brought him inside the ambulance. Dally followed and got inside. The paramedic grabbed the defibrillator and proceeded to resuscitate Johnny. After a few pumps he could feel the pulse. "There is a heartbeat," he announced, and Dally released the breath he didn't know he was holding.


	9. Chapter 9

**Here is chapter 9 please enjoy**

When they got to the hospital Johnny was immediately placed on a gurney and wheeled away. Dally was standing lost in the middle of the waiting room. He was pacing the room until the receptionist told him to sit down. He gave her a finger, but flopped into a chair and hung his head. He was still hurting from being beat up by the junkies, but right now he didn't even care about that. He only cared about Johnny. He felt so much hate for Carl. He was seriously considering killing the guy but then he'd get electric chair just like Dodger.

While Dally was lost in his thoughts the doctor walked into the waiting room. "Family of Jonathan Cade," he called out. Dally sprinted to stand next to the doctor. He felt his eyes well up with tears, and quickly wiped them away with the back of his hand. "How is he?" Dallas croaked almost whisper. The doctor took a long look at Dallas, "he is going to be alright .We gave him the medication to lower the blood pressure and cold compresses to reduce the body overheating. And we are giving him intravenous fever reducers."

"Is he awake?" Dallas asked, his voice quivering slightly.

"He is, but he started having convulsions and we are giving him valium for that." "Shit," Dallas furrowed his eyebrows. "Anything else you can do?" He asked his voice strained.

"We did everything we could. The main thing is to keep blood pressure low and reduce body heat, which we are doing. We are monitoring his heart rate and if it gets high we'll give him medication for that."

"But he's is not…" Dally couldn't force himself to say what he was about to say, "He is not," he repeated "going to die or nothing?"

"No, the death from overdose," the doctor explained, "occurs from cardiac arrest." Dally gave him a puzzled look.

"It's when the heart stops," the doctor clarified. "We are monitoring him for that, or from overheating or organ failure and we are monitoring him for that as well so he is not going to die. There was a brief period when he wasn't breathing and was deprived of oxygen that may have caused damage to the brain and may result in memory problems." Dally frowned, "how bad?"

"It depends," the doctor replied, "he may not have any or he may have pretty severe memory problems." Dallas bit his lower lip. "Sorry to be the bad news barer," the doctor said. Then looked down and added in a low voice, "he's so young what's he doing running around doing drugs? Where are his parents?" Dally thought of saying it was just an honest mistake, but then decided not to bother he wouldn't understand anyway, he thought. So Dally just ignored the doctor's question.

"Can I see him?" he asked instead.

"It's better to wait a couple of days."

"How long is he going to stay here?" Dally asked next.

"If nothing goes wrong one week should be sufficient." At this moment the nurse stepped in form the hallway and called the doctor. "One minute," he told her and then turned back to Dallas. "Do you have any more questions?" he asked.

"No I'm good," Dally replied swallowing hard.

"Come back in a few days I'll let you see him." With that the doctor started walking away.

For the next three days Dally camped out in the waiting room. It was a rare thing for Dallas Winston to be scared, but right now he was scared, scared for Johnny's life, scared of what he might do if Johnny was not ok. He couldn't take it, he needed to talk to someone. He went to the payphone and dialed Darry's number. Darry was at work so Pony picked up the phone. Dally would prefer to speak to Darry, but he had to be content with just Pony. He told him everything that happened. He told him about Carl, and that Johnny was using drugs and that he was at the hospital with an overdose. He could almost picture Pony on the other end of the line, his lip trembling, him starting to cry. "Is he…is he going to be ok?" Pony sobbed.

"The doc said they are doing everything they can and they gave him a bunch of medications," Dally paused, "he said Johnny's gonna be ok. He ain't letting me see him though." There was silence on the other end of the line, and Dally realized Pony didn't trust himself to talk. Dally was close to tears himself. "I gotta go," he said quickly and hung up the phone.

The next day the doctor finally let Dally see Johnny. Quietly almost tiptoeing Dally entered Johnny's room. He could almost bawl at the sight in front of him. Johnny's limp body, he was still not moving, his eyes closed.

Dally walked up Johnny's bed. Johnny heard his footsteps and opened his eyes. Dally took Johnny's hand. "Hey, how are you holding up?" Johnny was quiet for a minute and looked Dallas in the eyes.

"The convulsions," he croaked, "they stopped. I'm ok now."

"You bet you are," Dally ruffled Johnny's hair.

"I was so scared," Johnny whispered, "I thought I was going to die for sure," he said. "When Carl and this other guys showed up they injected the drugs into my vein."

"Bastards," Dally cursed.

"You sure scared the hell outta me," Dally said next, squeezing Johnny's hand. "Your heart stopped…. and…" he trailed off.

"It did?" Johnny sounded puzzled.

"Yeah, they had to use those things whatever they are called to bring you back."

"Well I'm fine now," Johnny smiled weakly. "The doc said I can go home in two days."

"As soon as they let you go we are going back to Tulsa." Dally carefully sat down on the edge of Johnny's bed. "You know they jumped me when I was going back from the cemetery."

"They did?" Johnny sounded angry.

"Yeah, they did. And there was nothing I could do about it either – there were like ten of them."

Johnny's face turned pale. "They could've killed you."

Then Johnny was quiet and then sighed staring into the distance, "Sorry, I don't know how I didn't realize they were just using me. I felt like it was too good to be true and it was." He said bitterly.

"Not your fault," Dallas said sternly, the bed squeaking slightly under his weight, "They fucking brainwashed you."

Johnny was silent again then said "I can't wait to get out of here, can't wait to go back to Tulsa." He paused, then looked Dallas straight in the eyes, "You think I got a chance of being let off easy since it was self-defense?"

"I'll be honest, man. I don't know about stuff like that," Dallas said, "but I sure hope so." Johnny just sighed in response.

In two days Johnny was discharged from the hospital. He fully recovered and considered himself pretty lucky especially since Dallas had told him that his heart actually stopped. That same evening they took the train back to Tulsa.


	10. Chapter 10

When Johnny and Dally got to Tulsa they went straight to the Curtis house. All the guys gathered around Johnny and were asking him how he was doing.

"I'm so glad you are off that stuff," Pony managed while giving Johnny a hug.

"Yeah, me too," Johnny croaked.

"C'mon," Darry said, "I bet he is tired and hungry. Let's eat." Everybody sat down at the table, but Johnny did not have much of an appetite. "So are they …" he lifted up his head, "are they still looking for me?" He asked apprehensively.

"Don't know," Pony replied, "they questioned us the day you ran away and you were in the local paper for a few days and on the local news."

"Tomorrow I'm gonna go down to the police station and turn myself in." Johnny saw a pained expression on Pony's face. "I gotta do it," he said simply. "I can't live in fear for the rest of my life you dig?"

"Yeah, I get it" Pony sighed.

That night Johnny couldn't fall asleep. He was turning and tossing on the Curtis couch thinking about what was going to happen to him. Will he be let off easy or will he get the electric chair? By the time Dally, who also spent the night, woke up Johnny was already sitting on the couch ready to go. "Hi Dal," he said.

"Hi Johnny," Dally replied, "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," Johnny lied.

"I'm gonna go down to the station with you."

"You will?" Johnny said relieved. He was dreading going alone.

There was awkward silence, then Darry walked into the room. "What are you two doing up so early?"

"Just getting ready to go down to the station," Johnny replied.

"Well you gotta eat something first," Darry said stepping into the kitchen turning the stove on and grabbing some eggs.

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry," Johnny said, getting up from the couch.

"Oh no, you got to eat something before you go," Darry insisted. "You don't know how long you are going to be there. You need your strength you don't want to faint or something because you haven't eaten."

"Ok, fine." Johnny sighed.

At this moment Pony and Soda entered the room. "Smells nice," Soda said, running his fingers through his hair, which was sticking out in every direction. "How are you holding up, man?" Pony asked Johnny.

"All right," Johnny said, "Dal is going to the station with me."

After everybody ate, Darry offered to give them a ride. Johnny slowly walked outside towards Darry's truck. He was visibly scared. Darry wished he could say something to make him more at ease but there was nothing he could say -he was as scared for Johnny as Johnny was for himself.

They pulled up to the station, and Dally and Johnny got out of the truck. Reluctantly Johnny moved his feet and stepped inside. Dally followed him. The guy at the front desk looked up at them from the paperwork he was working on. "Visitation hours don't start till twelve," he said in a low, loud voice.

"We ain't here for visitations," Dally spat at him. Dallas was feeling antsy. He knew this place too well. So many times he was dragged here after being arrested for one thing or another.

"What are you here for then?" the guy asked looking at them more closely.

"I'm here to turn myself in," Jonny said barely audibly. The guy gave him a long, hard look. "Wait, you are the one that killed that kid in the park a few months ago." Johnny looked him right in the eyes and nodded, his facial expression as if he just signed his own death sentence.

"Stay where you are," the guy ordered and grabbed the phone. "Hey Officer Rodgers I have a guy here to confess the Robert Sheldon murder. Yeah he's here says he's here to turn himself in, ok, sure. He'll be right here," the guy said hanging up the phone.

In a few minutes an officer appeared in the doorway. Johnny felt intimidated - the guy was wearing his uniform and had a gun. Officer Rodgers recognized Johnny right away. "You are here to confess?" he looked at him, and Johnny nodded while looking down.

"He will only talk after he gets a lawyer," Dallas spoke up.

"You Winston, what are you doing here, missed me already? We can book you too as an accomplice, keep him company."

"I mean it," Dallas pointed a finger at the cop, "he gets a lawyer." The cop smirked, "he gets to spend the day in a cell then we'll get him a public defender." Johnny felt literally shaking as the cop said he'll be spending the day in a cell.

"If I were you I'd leave," the cop said to Dallas, "before something bad happens, you," he pointed at Johnny, "let's go." He got up and motioned for Johnny to walk in front of him. At least he didn't handcuff him. Johnny shot one last look at Dally and there was absolute terror in his eyes. Dallas cursed under his breath, then got up and left.

The cop led Johnny to a cell and locked it. Johnny sat down on a cot. He was shaking. He covered his face with his palms and was silently crying.

After a few hours the guard walked into the cell. Johnny was still in the same position as before. "You meet the public defender now," the guard barked, "follow me." All of the sudden Johnny felt exhausted, like all life was knocked out of him. He was paler than a sheet and his whole body was shaking. How am I supposed to do this, he thought - talk to a lawyer, talk to the cops, the judge.

The guard led Johnny to an office where the lawyer was already waiting for him. Johnny walked in.

"Hi, I'm attorney Edwards," the lawyer got up from his seat and held out his hand, "you must be Jonathan." Johnny nodded, shaking his hand. "Please take a seat." Johnny sat down reluctantly. The attorney was surprisingly young. He seemed to be Darry's age maybe a few years older. Great, Johnny thought, maybe I'm his first case.

The attorney smiled at Johnny, "so tell me your story." where to begin Johnny thought. He felt close to tears recalling that fatal night of the murder. Bob was only seventeen or eighteen, and Johnny took his life. Maybe he deserved an electric chair, he thought.

"C'mon," the lawyer prompted. He seemed friendly enough. So Johnny reluctantly told him everything that went on that night. The lawyer listened carefully writing stuff down in his notepad and interrupting Johnny with an occasional question or two. When Johnny was done he stopped talking and looked at the lawyer hope in his eyes.

"Ok," the lawyer said closing his notepad and placing it in his briefcase. "If the girlfriend and your friend Ponyboy testify we can prove that it was self-defense. You can tell the cops when they question you everything just like you told me. Tell them the truth, it will not hurt your case."

"Ok," Johnny nodded.

"I will talk to the girlfriend and Ponyboy, and I will also try to speak to the other boys that were there and were trying to drown Ponyboy along with Bob. If they testify it will improve your chance of being let off easy."

"Ok," Johnny said again, swallowing hard.

"Cheer up, it's going to be ok," the lawyer said before Johnny left the room, and then added, "I once lived on the poor side of town too."

The guard walked in and took Johnny to another room where two cops were already waiting for him. There was a small desk in the room and two chairs facing each other. One of the cops motioned for Johnny to take a seat. He did, staring into the distance not meeting the cop's gaze. Neither of the cops took a seat. They were standing across from Johnny sizing him up. One of the cops – Rodgers cleared his throat, "so ready to talk?" Johnny nodded still not looking at the cop but staring into the distance.

"So where were you the night October seventeenth at 2:30 a.m.?" the cop asked. Johnny looked down. "I was at the lot." The cop frowned, "why were you out at this hour? Why weren't you home?" Johnny swallowed hard how could he explain what was going on at his house. He didn't want to say it and considered just lying but he couldn't think of any good lie. "I didn't want to go home," his vice quivered, "because my dad gets drunk a lot and when he is drunk he beats me up." And just like that it was in the open for the whole world to know that he was beat up at home.

"So you just sleep at the lot?" Johnny nodded.

"What happened next?" the cop prompted.

"I was sleeping when Ponyboy showed up. He just had a fight with his older brother, and he need to cool off." Johnny purposely didn't mention that Darry hit Pony because that could get them in trouble or even separated.

"So what happened when Ponyboy showed up at the lot?"

"We decided to go to the park and back and then Pony would go back home."

"But that didn't happen?" the cop asked.

"So why were you carrying a blade?" The other cop asked and he sounded harsh. Johnny was silent. The cop looked at him expectantly. Johnny felt like he needed a glass of water - his mouth was dry.

"You knew you were going to stab him didn't you?" the cop said. Johnny's heart almost stopped. "Oh no," he said, "I didn't do it on purpose. They were drowning Ponyboy, they would've killed him if I didn't step in. I didn't mean to kill him just wanted to get him off of Ponyboy."

"But you had a blade, why?" Johnny cleared his throat there was no way to get around it. "I was beat up really badly a few months ago by the socs... the rich kids they jumped me all the time so I started to carry the blade for protection."

"So you knew you were going to stab him." It was more of a statement than a question. Johnny just looked at him unable to speak, "I was hoping to just use it as a bluff," he said his voice quivering.

The guy walked up real close to Johnny and looked him straight in the eyes disgust in his eyes. "So the guy that was drowning Ponyboy was he the same guy that beat you up?"

"Yeah," Johnny said as if he was signing his death sentence.

"So you had a knife and it was the same guy that beat you up. Did you think of revenge, killing him?" Johnny's heart sank. They were putting words in his mouth, "that's not what I said," he tried to protest. The guy stopped writing in his notepad. "I think we got it." He nodded to Rodgers. Johnny felt his hands go cold. Are they going to say that he did it on purpose, that he was looking for revenge and meant to kill Bob. The lawyer told Johnny to be honest with the cops, but now Johnny thought he was a little too honest.

They led Johnny back to the cell, "your trial is in two weeks. You are to stay here without bail." Johnny sat down on a cot holding his head in his hands for what seemed like hours. He was wondering how the gang was doing. Were they playing poker as usual, watching TV, wrestling around, eating chocolate cake?

That night Johnny didn't get a wink of sleep. He was laying on his back staring at the ceiling. What if these were his last days, what if he got an electric chair. He winced at the thought, then closed his eyes for a moment. Then again, he thought, he took a human life maybe he deserved the eclectic chair. Death for death they would be even this way. He felt tears prickling his eyes, he was not ready to die. He hasn't seen anything except for his rundown neighborhood, and he hadn't done stuff. He was not ready to die for sure. Should've thought about that when stabbing Bob he thought, but they were really going to kill Pony, how could I not do anything to save my friend.

Soon it was morning, but Johnny didn't even realize it since the cell didn't have windows, and he didn't look at his watch. He realized it was morning when the guard brought food. Johnny didn't have an appetite. He scooped some oatmeal with his spoon and tried eating. The oatmeal was too thick and uneatable. Johnny lay back down on the cot turning on his side, his back towards the exit of the cell, and shut his eyes. He was thinking dark thoughts about death and how he didn't get to do anything with his life. It was not self pity but it was desperation and bewilderment.

The next thing he knew the guard entering the cell and telling him he had visitors. Johnny turned around to face him and rubbed his eyes. The guard led Johnny to the visitation room. He saw a small desk in the corner where Dally and Pony were sitting waiting for him. Johnny felt a pang in his stomach - how much he would give to be free. All those moments he had taken for granted - like going to the movies or to the arcade or even going home to his drunken father and getting beat up.

He quietly walked up to where his friends were sitting his shoulders slumped, looking down. He sat down opposite Dally and Pony. Dally did not like the look on Johnny's face.

"So?" Dallas looked up at Johnny apprehensively.

"Two weeks without bail then the trial," Johnny almost whispered.

"Damn it," Dally slammed his fist against the desk.

"Winston behave," the guard that was standing in the corner barked at Dallas. Dally gave him the finger.

"They'll be transferring me from here to the jail for the two weeks."

"What did the lawyer say?" Pony asked sinking down in his seat.

"Said if Cherry and you testify he can prove self-defense, and said to tell the cops the truth."

"Did ya?" Dally asked.

"I did, but they are kind of making it look like I meant to kill Bob, like I did it on purpose."

"What do you mean?"

"They beat it out of me that Bob was the one who beat me up a few moths earlier and now I carried a blade. So they are making it look like I carried the blade so I could have revenge on Bob."

"Shit," Dally cursed, "you shouldda never told them that it was the same guy that beat you up."

"I know," Johnny hung his head.

"Hey," Dally tried to catch Johnny's gaze, "it's gonna be alright. Cherry and Pony will testify." Dally grabbed Johnny's hand.

"No physical contact," the guard barked, and Johnny quickly removed his hand. "Mother fucker," Dally cursed.

"So when are you gonna see the lawyer again?" Dallas asked next.

"In two days," Johnny replied, "He said he was gonna try talking to Cherry, to you Pony, and to the rest of the socs, try to make them testify too."

Pony was going to say something, but the guard spoke before him, "Time's up," he said looking at them with disgust. He next walked up to the table and motioned for Johnny to follow him. Johnny walked behind the guard, turning around to take one last look at his friends.


	11. Chapter 11

The next two weeks flew by. Johnny didn't expect it to be so soon but it was. He had visitors every day, and his fiends really tried to cheer him up. He was in a better state of mind than his first day. The lawyer talked to Cherry, Pony, Randy and some other socs. All agreed to testify.

Finally it was the day of the trial. Johnny felt really scared. He had to talk in front of all these people while he had difficulty to even talking to the gang. He was always the silent one. The trial started at t 10 a.m. and they arrived at a quarter to ten. Johnny was led directly to the court room and told to sit down in his spot in the front row, the seat for the defendant.

The room was really large, and it was really bright. The light was hurting Johnny's eyes and he squinted. There were rows of seats and some were taken by the reporters and photographers. In the corner of his eye he could see Pony, Darry and Dally standing in the hallway frowning at the fact that they weren't allowed to talk to him. They were all wearing suits, even Dally.

Soon Johnny's lawyer showed up. He took a seat next to Johnny. He took one look at Johnny and realized how he felt. "Hey, it'll be alright, just tell them everything the way you told me."

"What if…," Johnny paused stumbling over his words a little, "what if they say I carried the blade so I could have revenged on Bob?"

"They will try to say that, but Cherry and Ponyboy and Randy and the other boys will testify that Bob was drunk and that the other guys were the ones who started the fight and that they were indeed drowning Ponyboy, and you had no other choice but to stab him. Don't worry so much," the lawyer gave Johnny a sympathetic smile, "I took care of this. So just speak honestly can you do that?"

"Ok," Johnny gave him a weak smile.

At ten sharp the judge entered the room and proceeded to his seat. He was a tall, thin man in his sixties with a receding gray hair. His facial expression was tough and unreadable. Johnny swallowed hard.

"Here we go," the lawyer whispered, "just don't be scared." Easier said than done, Johnny thought. Everyone stood up.

"This is case number fifty-nine sixty-two," the clerk read, "on the account of Sheldon versus Cade. All parties have been sworn you may be seated." Everybody sat down.

Johnny looked across the room where Mr. and Mrs. Sheldon were sitting. There was an air about them, like they were proud of themselves and their son or something.

It was time for opening statement and the Sheldon's attorney was first. "Ladies and gentlemen," he addressed the jury "an innocent life was taken of October seventeenths of this year of Robert Sheldon. It was taken by the defendant Jonathan Cade. Today I am here to establish that Jonathan Cade as quiet and innocent as he may appear sitting in his chair in this room is a murderer. I am going to prove to you that this was a premeditated murder, and the defendant should be punished accordingly."

Then Johnny's lawyer gave a short but powerful opening statement. "Yes my client did take Robert Sheldon's life on October seventeenths this year. It was a result of unfortunate circumstances and events. My client absolutely did not intend t kill Mr. Sheldon, but Mr. Sheldon along with some other friends were drowning Jonathan's friend Ponyboy, Ponyboy's life was in danger, and Jonathan acted strictly in self-defense. Therefore we will prove to you today that my client acted strictly in self- defense and his homicide was justifiable."

"Ladies and gentlemen," Mr. Edwards said, "the defendant will testify." Then all eyes were on Johnny. He slowly got up, and proceeded to take the stand. Everything seemed surreal to him, like a scene from a bad court drama or a movie. Finally he stopped and looked over the room.

"Jonathan," the lawyer prompted, "please tell us what occurred on October seventeenths of this year." So Johnny started to speak looking down avoiding meeting the gaze with anyone in the audience or in the jury. He told how he slept at the lot and how Pony showed up upset. Once again he omitted the fact that Darry hit Pony, and he told the jury how they walked Marcia and Cherry and how the socs were drunk and were looking for a fight. The lawyer was asking questions from time to time.

Then there was time for cross-examination by prosecution lawyer. "Can you tell us why you were carrying a blade on the date in question?" the Sheldon's lawyer asked. Johnny paled a little, then said "I was jumped really badly a couple of months before so I started carrying a blade for protection."

"So you considered that you may have to kill somebody with the blade?"

"Objection," Johnny's lawyer yelled, "Open question."

"Overruled," the judge said in a grave voice. Johnny looked down and held his breath, he felt trapped. Then he looked up for a very brief moment and then looked down again.

"Please answer the question," the judge prompted.

"I never," his voice suddenly went into a high note because he was crying." I never intended to kill anybody. I carried it just to bluff if somebody jumped me again." "Was Robert Sheldon the boy you killed the same boy that jumped you a few months ago?" the prosecutor stared Johnny directly in the eyes trying to intimidate him.

"He was." Johnny gasped for air.

"So weren't you carrying the blade because you were looking for revenge?" "Objection, he already answered this question," Johnny's lawyer yelled.

"Sustained," the judge said n the same grave tone of voice, "Mr. Cade had already answered this question."

Then suddenly Johnny looked up. He wiped a single tear that was rolling down his cheek and looked the prosecutor right in the eyes. "I never meant to kill him," he said quietly but firmly. "He and his friends were drunk, they were drowning my friend Ponyboy in the fountain. He would be dead if I didn't do what I did. They really left me no choice. I was hoping to stab him just to make him stop drowning Ponyboy, I didn't mean to kill him."

There was silence in the room. The prosecutor seemed lost for a moment. Then he walked back reluctantly and said, "No further questions." On shaky legs Johnny walked back to his seat. The lawyer slapped him on the shoulder, "you did good." Johnny looked at him not convinced.

"The worst is over," the lawyer whispered, "now they'll call up the witnesses and you'll be free."

The lawyer stood up and said, "We call the first witness Ms. Valance." Cherry walked up to the stand.

"What were you doing on the evening October seventeenths this year?" the lawyer asked.

"I went to the movies."

"Was Mr. Sheldon with you at all times?"

"No, we went together - me, my boyfriend Bob, my friend Marcia and her boyfriend Randy. But the boys were drunk so we left them and went on our own."

"So the boys were drunk?"

"Yes."

"Objection the prosecutor yelled.

"Overruled," the judge responded.

"Did you at any point that evening meet the defendant Jonathan Cade?"

"Yes."

"Please elaborate."

"Me and my friend Marcia were sitting trying to watch a movie when Jonathan, I mean Johnny and his fiends sat in a row behind us." She didn't go into details about Dally bothering them because she thought it may hurt Johnny's case in some way. "We were a little scared being there on our own so we asked Johnny and Ponyboy to seat with us. Later their friend two… Keith showed up, and after the movies the boys started to walk us home when Bob, Randy and a few others drove up and demanded that we go home with them. They were even more drunk than before and threatened the greasers… um Johnny and his friends with a fight."

"No further questions," attorney Edwards said.

Then there was cross-examination. "So your boyfriends and their friends were drunk on the night of the events?"

"Yes."

"How do you know that? Did you actually see them drink?"

"No, but they were reeling and passed out on the street."

"If they were so drunk how did they manage to drive the car?"

"When it was just Bob and Randy they drove very erratically and almost got us into an accident and later when there were six of them in the car maybe one of them was sober and was driving."

"But you don't know that for sure?"

"No, but I know that when Bob and Randy got out of the car and threatened Johnny and his friends with a fight they were wobbling and could hardly stand straight." Cherry was really pale as she was speaking, but she spoke firmly and confidently and it was apparent that she was not making it up.

"No further questions," the lawyer said.

"Next witness," the judge called out.

"We call Ponyboy Curtis." Pony felt really nervous as he was walking up to the stand. He felt sweat trickling down his spine. He proceeded to tell the same story as Cherry.

"What happened in the park?" the lawyer prompted.

"We were sitting there smoking trying to cool off when the blue mustang full of socs … um the rich kids pulled up. The same ones that were there when we left the movies."

"Was Mr. Sheldon inn the car?"

"Yes Bob, Randy and four others were in the car. They were mad that we picked up their girlfriends. They started chasing us around the park. I couldn't see what was going on with Johnny, but they grabbed me and dragged me to the fountain. They dipped my head into the water repeatedly and I started choking. They seemed to have more fun when they realized I was choking."

"Would you say you could've died if Johnny didn't help you?"

"For sure."

"So what happened next?"

"I passed out, and when I came to senses I saw Johnny sitting with a blade in his hands and Bob's body in a distance."

"Would you say that Johnny didn't know he was going to use the blade?"

"Johnny is the most law abiding out of all my friends. He only used the blade because they were drowning me and I could've died. He seemed really shook up by what he'd done."

"No further questions." The prosecution didn't have any questions for Ponyboy.

Next they called Marcia and Randy to testify, and they confirmed everything Cherry and Pony said. Johnny's lawyer turned to Johnny and smiled, "it's in the bag now," he chuckled. Johnny didn't feel as confident that it was in the bag, but was hoping it was.

Then two more socs testified. They confirmed that they were drunk and that they were drowning Pony and he was choking and could've easily died.

At the end of the trial the judge announced, "The jury will deliberate between voluntary manslaughter, involuntary manslaughter with the sentences of 10 and 5 years or justifiable homicide on the basis of self-defense for which the defendant will not serve any time. When the jury reaches the verdict everyone will be notified to reconvene in the court room for sentencing of the defendant."

After that Johnny was brought back to the cell. He didn't even get a chance to talk to his friends. He tried not to get his hopes up, and was preparing for the sentence to do time in jail. At least I won't get the electric chair, he thought, so that's good.

In two days everyone was notified to appear in court. Johnny was waiting anxiously for the verdict. The lawyer seemed confident.

Finally the judge appeared, "have the jury reached a verdict?" he asked.

"We have," a woman form the jury said.

"What is you verdict?" the judge said in grave voice.

"We find the defendant Jonathan Cade on the account of voluntary manslaughter not guilty, on the account of involuntary manslaughter not guilty. We fine the defendant have done justifiable homicide due to self-defense." Johnny found himself gasping for air. Tears streamed down his face. "So that's it?" He asked the lawyer, "I can go?"

"Yes you are a free man, Johnny Cade," the lawyer smiled.

"Thank you so much," Johnny said to the lawyer.

"You deserve it," the lawyer replied. Johnny ran down to his friends. He thanked Pony for testifying. Then he felt that he should thank Cherry and Marcia. He felt apprehensive about approaching them but went for it. He walked up to Cherry first – "hi," he said awkwardly.

"Hi Johnny," she replied.

"Um… thank you for testifying there for me."

"Don't mention it, it's the least I could do."

"Well without your testimony I wouldn't have been let off easy."

"Don't mention it. I'm glad you are not going to jail," she said then added in a very serious tone of voice, "you don't deserve to go to jail." Then Marcia and Randy walked up to them, and Johnny thanked them too.

So here he was a free man Jonathan Cade. Pony walked up to them and thanked Cherry, Marcia and Randy too. Then he stretched his arm around Johnny's shoulder and together they exited the courtroom.


End file.
